{"id":3004,"date":"2026-01-03T23:00:16","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T23:00:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/garrett-files-05-dread-brass-shadows-cook-glen\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T23:00:16","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T23:00:16","slug":"garrett-files-05-dread-brass-shadows-cook-glen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/garrett-files-05-dread-brass-shadows-cook-glen\/","title":{"rendered":"Garrett Files 05 – Dread Brass Shadows – Cook, Glen"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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Glen Cook<\/p>\n

Dread Brass<\/p>\n

Shadows<\/p>\n

From the files of Garrett, P.I.<\/p>\n

1<\/h1>\n

Whew! The things I get me into!<\/p>\n

We had snow hip deep to a tall mammoth for four weeks, then it turned suddenly hot and the whole mess melted quicker than you could say cabin fever. So I was out running and banging into people and things and falling on my face because the girls were out stretching their gorgeous gams and I hadn\u2019t seen one leg, let alone two, since the snow started falling.<\/p>\n

Running? Garrett? Yeah. All six feet two and two hundred pounds, poetry in motion. All right. Maybe it was bad poetry, doggerel, but I was getting the hang of it. In a few weeks I\u2019d be back to the old lean and mean I\u2019d been when I was twenty and a crack Marine. And pigs would be zooming around my ears like falcons.<\/p>\n

Thirty isn\u2019t old to somebody who\u2019s fifty, but when you\u2019ve spent a few years making a career of being lazy and the belly gets a little less than washboard and the knees start creaking and you start puffing and wheezing halfway up a flight of stairs, you feel like maybe you\u2019ve skipped the twenty in between, or maybe just started spinning The digits over on the left-hand side. I had a bad case of got-to-do-something-about-this.<\/p>\n

So I was out running. And admiring the scenery. And huffing and puffing and wondering if maybe I ought to forget it and sign myself into the Bledsoe cackle factory. It wasn\u2019t a lot of fun.<\/p>\n

Saucerhe.ad bad the right idea. He sat on my front stoop with a pitcher Dean kept topped. Each time I lumbered past he got his exercise by throwing up fingers showing the number of laps I\u2019d survived without a stroke.<\/p>\n

People shoved me and cussed me, Macunado Street was belly button to elbow with dwarves and gnomes, ogres and imps, elves and whatever have you else, not to mention every human in the neighborhood There wasn\u2019t room for pigeons to fly because the pixies and fairies were zipping and swooping overhead. Nobody in TunFaire was staying inside but the Dead Man. And he was awake for the first time in weeks, sharing the euphoria vicariously.<\/p>\n

The whole damned city was on a peak high. Everybody was up. Even the ratmen were smiling<\/p>\n

I churned around the corner at Wizard\u2019s Reach, knees pumping and elbows flailing, gawking ahead in hopes that Saucerhead would be struck as dumb as he looks and would lose count, maybe a couple laps in my favor. No such luck. Well, some luck He showed me nine fingers and I figured he wasn\u2019t lying much. Then he waved and pointed. Something he wanted me to see. I cut to the side, apologized to a couple of young lovers who didn\u2019t even see me, bounced up the steps with all the spring of a wet sponge. I looked out over the crowd,<\/p>\n

\u201cWell.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTinnie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Well, indeed. My gal Tinnie Tate, professional redhead, She was still a block away but she was in her summer taunting gear, and wherever she walked, guys stopped and bounced their chins off their chests. She was hotter than a house afire and ten times as interesting. \u201cThere ought to be a law.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably is but who can keep his mind on legalities?\u201d I gave Saucerhead a raised eyebrow. That wasn\u2019t his style.<\/p>\n

Tinnie was in her early twenties, a little bit of a thing but with hips that were amply ample and mounted on gimbels. She had breasts that would make a dead bishop jump up and howl at the moon. She had lots of long red hair. The breeze threw it around wilder than I suddenly hoped I might in about five minutes if I could run off Saucerhead and Dean and get the Dead Man to take a nap.<\/p>\n

She saw me gaping and panting and threw up a hand hello and every guy in Macunado Street hated me instantly. I sneered at them for their trouble.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how you do it, Garrett,\u201d Saucerhead said. \u201cUgly dink like you, manners like a water buffalo. I just don\u2019t know.\u201d My pal. He got up. Sensitive guy, Saucerhead Tharpe. He could tell right away when a guy wanted to be alone with his girl. Or maybe he was just going to head her off and warn her she was wasting her time on an ugly dink like me.<\/p>\n

Ugly? A vile slander. My face has gotten pushed around some over the years, but it has all the right parts in approximately all the right places. I can stand to look at it in a mirror, except maybe on the morning after. It\u2019s got character.<\/p>\n

As I grabbed my mug and took a long drink, just to replace fluids, a dark-skinned, weaselly little guy with black hair and a pencil-stroke mustache grabbed Tinnie\u2019s chin with his left hand. His other hand was behind her, out of sight, but I never doubted what he was doing.<\/p>\n

Neither did Saucerhead. He let out a bellow like a wounded bison and flew off the stoop. His boots never touched the steps. I was right behind him yowling like a saber-tooth with his tail on fire, eyes teared up so I couldn\u2019t see who I was trampling.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t run into anybody, though. Saucerhead broke trail. Bodies flew out of his way. It didn\u2019t matter if they were two feet tall or ten. Nothing stops Saucerhead when he\u2019s mad. Stone walls barely slow him down.<\/p>\n

Tinnie was down when we got there. People were clearing out. Nobody wanted to be near the girl with the knife in her back, especially not with two madmen roaring around.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead never slowed down. I did. I dropped to one knee beside Tinnie. She looked up. She didn\u2019t look like she was hurting, just kind of sad. There were tears in her eyes. She reached up with one hand. I didn\u2019t say anything. I didn\u2019t ask anything. My throat wouldn\u2019t let me.<\/p>\n

Maybe it was our bellowing. He squatted down. \u201cI\u2019ll take her inside, Mr. Garrett. Maybe His Nibs can help. You do what you have to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grunted something that was more of a moan than anything, lifted Tinnie into his frail old arms He was no muscleman, but he managed I took off after Saucerhead.<\/p>\n

2<\/h1>\n

Tharpe had a block lead but I gained ground fast. I wasn\u2019t thinking. He was. He was pacing himself, matching the assassin\u2019s stride, maybe following to see where he led. I didn\u2019t care about that. I didn\u2019t care about anything. I didn\u2019t look around to see what else was happening on the street. I wanted that blademan so bad I could taste blood.<\/p>\n

I came churning up beside Saucerhead. He grabbed my shoulder, slowed me down, kept squeezing till the pain took the red out of my eyes. When he had my attention he made a couple of gestures, pointed.<\/p>\n

I got it. First time, too. Must be getting smarter as I age.<\/p>\n

The skinny guy didn\u2019t know his way around. He was just trying to get away. There aren\u2019t many straight streets in old TunFaire. They wander like they were laid out by drunken goblins blinded by the sun. This character was sticking to Macunado Street even though we had passed the point where it changes its name to Way of the Harlequin and then again to Dadville Lane after it narrows down.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gone.\u201d I cut out to the right, into an alley, through, darted down a narrow lane, ducked into a breezeway, skipped over some ratmen wasted on weed and a couple of blitzed human winos, then blasted out into Dadville Lane again, where it finishes the big, lazy loop around the Memorial Quarters. I chugged across the street and leaned against a hitching rail, waiting, puffing, and wheezing and grinning because boy, was I in shape for this.<\/p>\n

I was ready to dump my guts.<\/p>\n

And here they came The gink with the mustache was going all out, scared to death, trying so hard he wasn\u2019t seeing anything. All he knew was the pounding feet were catching up.<\/p>\n

I let him come, stepped out, tripped him. He flew headlong, rolled like he had some tumbling experience, came up going full speed\u2014wham! Right into the end of a watering trough. His momentum kept his top half going. He made a fine big splash.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead got on one side of the trough I got on the other. Tharpe slapped my hand away. Probably that was best. I was too upset.<\/p>\n

He grabbed that gink by his greasy black hair, pushed him under, pulled him up, said, \u201cWinded as you are, you ain\u2019t gonna hold your breath long.\u201d He shoved the mustache under again, pulled him up. \u201cThat water\u2019s going to get cold going down. You\u2019re going to feel it going and know there ain\u2019t one damned thing you can do to stop it.\u201d The big louse was barely puffing. The guy in the trough was wheezing and snorting worse than me.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead shoved him under, brought him up a half second before he sucked in a gallon. \u201cSo tell us about it, little man. How come you stuck the girl?\u201d<\/p>\n

He would have answered if he could. He wanted to answer. But he was too busy trying to breathe. Saucerhead shoved him under again.<\/p>\n

He came up, swallowed an acre of air, gasped, \u201cThe book!\u201d He gobbled some more air\u2014and that was the last breath he drew.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat book?\u201d I snapped.<\/p>\n

A crossbow bolt hit the guy in the throat. Another thunked into the trough, and a third put a hole through Saucerhead\u2019s sleeve. Tharpe came over the trough in one bound and landed smack on top of me. A couple, three more bolts whizzed past.<\/p>\n

Tharpe didn\u2019t bother making me comfortable. He did stick his head up for a second. \u201cWhen I roll off, you go for that door.\u201d We were about eight feet from the doorway to a tavern. Right then, that looked like a mile. I groaned, the only sound I could make with all that meat on top.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead roiled off. I scrambled. I never really got myself upright. I just sort of got my hands and feet under me and made that door in one long dive, dog-paddling. Saucerhead was right behind me. Crossbows twanged. Bolts thunked into the door. \u201cBoy!\u201d I said. \u201cThose guys are in big trouble.\u201d Crossbows are illegal inside the city wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell?\u201d I gasped as we shoved the door shut. \u201cWhat in the hell?\u201d I dived over to a window, peeked through a crack in a shutter still closed against winter.<\/p>\n

The street had cleared as though a god had swept a broom along it, excepting a mixed bag of six nasties with crossbows. They spread out, weapons aimed our way. Two came forward.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead took a peek. Behind us the barkeep went into a \u201cHere, now! I won\u2019t have trouble in my place! You boys clear out!\u201d routine.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead said, \u201cThree dwarfs, an ogre, a ratman, and a human. Unusual mix.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOdd, yes.\u201d I turned. \u201cYou got trouble already, Pop. You want it out of here, lend a hand. What you got under the bar to keep the peace?\u201d I wasn\u2019t carrying anything. Who needs an arsenal to lumber around the block? Tharpe didn\u2019t carry, usually. He counted on his strength and wit. Which maybe made him an unarmed man twice over.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t get going you\u2019re going to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrouble\u2019s the farthest thing from my mind, Pop. I don\u2019t need any. But tell that to those guys outside. They already killed somebody in your watering trough.\u201d<\/p>\n

I peeked again. The two had pulled the mustache Out of the water. They looked him over. They finally figured it out, dropped him, eyeballed the tavern like they were thinking about coming inside.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead borrowed a table from a couple of old boys puffing pipes and nursing mugs that would last them till nightfall. He just politely asked them to raise their mugs, picked the table up, and ripped a leg off. He tossed me that, got himself another, turned what was left into a shield. When those two arrived, he bashed the dwarf\u2019s head in, then mashed the ogre against the door-frame with the table while I tickled his noggin with a rim shot.<\/p>\n

One of their crossbows didn\u2019t get broken. I grabbed it, put the bolt back in. popped out the door, and ripped off a one-handed shot at the nearest target I missed and pinked a dwarf ninety feet away. He yelped. His pals headed for the high country.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead grumbled, \u201cYou couldn\u2019t hit a bull in the butt with a ten-foot pole if you was inside the barn.\u201d While I tried to figure that out, he grabbed the ogre, who was as big as he was, and tried to shake him awake. It didn\u2019t work. Not much of a necromancer, my buddy Saucerhead.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t try the dwarf That guy had gotten pounded down a foot shorter than he started out. So Tharpe just stood there shaking his head and looking baffled. I thought that was such a good idea I did it, too. And all the while, that old bartender was howling about damages while his clientele tried to dig holes in the floor to hide in<\/p>\n

\u201cNow WHAT ?\u201d Saucerhead asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d I peeked outside.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey gone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like. People are starting to come out.\u201d A sure sign the excitement was over They would come count the bodies and lie to each other about how they saw the whole thing, and by the time any authority arrived\u2014if it ever did\u2014the story\u2019s only resemblance to fact would be that somebody got dead<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go ask Tinnie.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sounded like a stroke of genius to me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>3<\/h1>\n

Tinnie Tate wasn\u2019t some mousy little homemaker for whom the height of adventure was the day\u2019s trip to market. But she Wasn\u2019t the kind of gal who got messed up with guys who stick knives in people and run in packs shooting crossbow volleys at citizens, either. She lived with her uncle Willard. Willard Tate was a shoemaker. Shoemakers don\u2019t make the kinds of enemies who poop people. A shoe doesn\u2019t fit, they bitch and moan and ask for their money back, they don\u2019t call out the hard boys.<\/p>\n

I thought about it as I trotted. It didn\u2019t make sense. The Dead Man says when it doesn\u2019t make sense, you don\u2019t have all the pieces or you\u2019re trying to put them together wrong. I kept telling me, Wait till we see what Tinnie has to say. I refused to face the chance that Tinnie might not be able.<\/p>\n

We had a curious and rocky relationship, Tinnie and me. Sort of can\u2019t live with and can\u2019t live without. We fought a lot. Though it hadn\u2019t been going anywhere, the relationship was important to me. I guess what kept it going was the making up. It was making up that was two hundred proof and hotter than boiling steel.<\/p>\n

Before I got to the house, I knew it wouldn\u2019t matter what Tinnie had done, wouldn\u2019t matter what she\u2019d been into, whoever hurt her would pay with interest that would make a loan shark blush.<\/p>\n

Old Dean had the house forted up. He wouldn\u2019t have answered the door if the Dead Man hadn\u2019t been awake. He was, for sure. I felt his touch while I was pounding on the door and hollering like a Charismatic priest on a holy roll.<\/p>\n

Dean opened the door. He looked ten years older and all worn out. I was down the hall pushing into the Dead Man\u2019s room before he finished bolting the door behind Saucerhead.<\/p>\n

Garrett!<\/p>\n

The Dead Man\u2019s mind touch was a blow. It was an icewater shower, It stopped me in my tracks. I wanted to scream. That could only mean.<\/p>\n

She was there on the floor. I didn\u2019t look. I couldn\u2019t. I looked at the Dead Man, all four hundred fifty pounds of him, sitting in the chair where he\u2019d been since somebody stuck a knife in him four hundred years ago. Except for a ten-inch, elephantlike schnoz he could have passed for the world\u2019s fattest human, but he was Loghyr, one of a race so rare nobody has seen a live one in my lifetime. And that\u2019s fine by me. The dead, immobile ones are aggravation enough.<\/p>\n

See, if you kill a Loghyr, he doesn\u2019t just go away. You don\u2019t get him out of your hair that easy. He just stops breathing and gives up dancing. His spirit stays at home and gets crankier and crankier. He doesn\u2019t decay. At least mine hasn\u2019t in the few years I\u2019ve known him, though he\u2019s a little ragged around the edges where the moths and mice and whatnot nibble on him while he naps and there\u2019s no one around to shoo them away.<\/p>\n

Do not act the fool, Garrett. For once in our acquaintance astound me by pausing to reflect before you leap.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the way he is. Usually more so. My tenant and sometime partner, sometime mentor. Despite his control I croaked, \u201cTalk to me, Chuckles. Tell me what it\u2019s all about.\u201d<\/p>\n

Calm yourself Passion enslaves reason. The wise man. .<\/p>\n

Yeah. He does go on like that, hokey philosopher that he is. Only not in the really grim times . . . I began to suspect something.<\/p>\n

Once you get used to a particular Loghyr, you can read more than words when he thinks into your head. He was angry about what had happened but not nearly so outraged and vengeance hungry as he should have been. I began to control myself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI did it again, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

You get more exercise jumping to conclusions than you do running.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s going to be all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her chances seem good. She will need the attention of a skilled surgeon, though. I have put her into a deep sleep till such time as one becomes available.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. So tell me what you got from her.\u201d<\/p>\n

She had no idea what it was about. She was involved in nothing. She did not know the man who wielded the knife. He left out his usual stock of sarcastic comments when he added, She was just coming to see you. She went to sleep completely bewildered.<\/p>\n

He loosened his hold on me, let me settle into the big chair that\u2019s there for me when I visit.<\/p>\n

Till you lumbered in with your recollections, I assumed it was random violence. Meaning he had sorted through my memories of the chase.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead joined us. He leaned on the back of my chair, stared at Tinnie. He jumped to the same conclusion I had. I admired his self-control. He liked Tinnie and had a special place in his heart for guys who wasted women. He\u2019d lost one once, that he\u2019d been hired to protect. No fault of his own. He\u2019d wiped out half a platoon of assassins and had gotten ninety percent killed himself trying to save her. He hadn\u2019t been the same since.<\/p>\n

I told him, \u201cSmiley over there put her to sleep. She\u2019ll be all right, he thinks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSons of bitches must pay anyway,\u201d he growled, hanging on to the tough, but he looked relieved all over. I pretended I didn\u2019t see his show of \u201cweakness.\u201d<\/p>\n

The book? the Dead Man asked. That is all you got before the sniping started? Like it was my fault. Some sniping was about to get started here. He knew damned well that was all we\u2019d gotten. He\u2019d sifted our minds.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all.\u201d Play it straight. That was my new tactic. It drove him crazy when I didn\u2019t fight back.<\/p>\n

There was nothing in her thoughts about a book.<\/p>\n

\u201cAin\u2019t much to go on,\u201d Saucerhead said. He had lost his mad urgency. Tinnie was going to be all right. He didn\u2019t have to go out and lay waste. Not right away, anyway. He\u2014and I\u2014would keep an eye out for the characters responsible, though.<\/p>\n

No. I suggest you both calm yourselves, then recall those blackguards carefully. Any insignificant detail might be consequential. Garrett, if you feel this is of great importance, you might consider collecting the debt that Chodo Contague imagines he owes you.<\/p>\n

A reflection of my thoughts, that. \u201cI will if I have to. Too soon to think about that. I need to see Tinnie taken care of and get my mind straightened out before I go off on any crusade.\u201d That was a straight line of the sort he scarfs up usually, but this time he let it slide. \u201cSomething happens and she goes, I\u2019ll ring in Chodo like that. . . .\u201c I snapped my fingers. I\u2019m a fountain of talent.<\/p>\n

Chodo Contague, often called the kingpin, is the grand master of organized crime in TunFaire. In some ways he\u2019s more powerful than the King. He\u2019s no friend. He\u2019s damned near the embodiment of everything I hate, the kind of creep I got into my line to pull down. But just by doing my job I\u2019ve managed to do him some accidental favors. He has an obsessive, if skewed, sense of honor. The slimeball thinks he owes me, and I\u2019ll be damned if he won\u2019t do almost anything to pay the debt. If I wanted, I could say the word and he\u2019d put two thousand thugs on the street to make us square.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve avoided collecting because I don\u2019t want my name associated with his. Not in any way. Be bad for business if people suspected I was on his pad.<\/p>\n

Hell. I haven\u2019t really said what I do I\u2019m what the guys who don\u2019t like me call a peeper. An investigator and confidential agent, the way I put it. Pay me\u2014up front\u2014 and I\u2019ll find out things. More often than not, things you didn\u2019t really want to know. I don\u2019t dig up much good news. That\u2019s the nature of the racket.<\/p>\n

On the confidential-agent side I\u2019ll do a stand-in, like pay off a kidnapper or blackmailer for you, and make sure there\u2019s no last-second comedy. I\u2019ve worked hard to build a rep as a straight arrow, a guy who plays square, who comes down like the proverbial ton if you mess with my client. Which is why I wouldn\u2019t want anybody to think I\u2019d roll over for Chodo.<\/p>\n

If Tinnie died, I\u2019d change my rules. For Tinnie it would be dead ahead full speed, and whoever got in my way had best have his gods paid off because I wouldn\u2019t slow down till I ate somebody\u2019s liver. If Tinnie died.<\/p>\n

The Dead Man said she ought to pull through. I hoped he was right. This once. Usually I hope he\u2019s wrong because he\u2019s damned near infallible and works hard reminding me of that.<\/p>\n

Dean came in with a tray, beer, and stronger spirits if we needed them. Saucerhead took a beer. So did I. \u201cThat\u2019s good. That hits the spot after all that running.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Dead Man sent, I suggest you go see her uncle. Inform him what has happened and find out about arrangements. Perhaps he can give you a clue.<\/p>\n

Yeah. He had to bring it up. I\u2019d been wondering about who was going to tell the family. There had to be somebody I could stick with that little chore.<\/p>\n

The candidates constitute a horde of one, Garrett.<\/p>\n

He figured that out all by himself. He is a genius. A certified\u2014and certifiable\u2014genius. Just ask him. He\u2019ll tell you about it for hours.<\/p>\n

Any other time I would have given him a ration of lip. This time the specter of Willard Tate got in the way. \u201cAll right. I\u2019m on my way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe too,\u201d Saucerhead said. \u201cThere\u2019s some things I want to check out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Excellent. Excellent. Now everything is under control I can catch up on my sleep.<\/p>\n

Catch up. Right. In all the years I\u2019ve known him his waking time hasn\u2019t added up to six months.<\/p>\n

I let Saucerhead out the front door. Then I headed for the kitchen, got Dean to draw me another of those wonderful beers. \u201cHave to replace everything I sweated out.\u201d<\/p>\n

He scowled. He has some strong opinions about the way I Jive. Though he\u2019s an employee, I let him speak his mind. We have an understanding. He talks, I don\u2019t listen. Keeps us both happy.<\/p>\n

I hit the street without much enthusiasm. Old Man Tate and I aren\u2019t bosom buddies. I did a job for him once, and for a while afterward he\u2019d thought well of me, but a year of me playing push-me pull-you with Tinnie had somehow soured his outlook.<\/p>\n

4<\/h1>\n

The Tate place will fool you. It\u2019s supposed to. From outside it looks like a block of old warehouses nobody bothered to keep up. You can see why from the street out front. First, the Hill. Our overlords are buzzards watching for fortunes to flay through the engines of the law Second, the slums below. They produce extremely hungry and unpleasant fellows, some of whom will turn you inside out for a copper sceat.<\/p>\n

Thus, the Tate place pretending to be poverty\u2019s birthplace.<\/p>\n

The Tates are shoemakers who turn out army boots and pricey stuff for the ladies of the Hill. They\u2019re all masters. They have more wealth than they know what to do with.<\/p>\n

I gave their gate a good rattle. A young Tate responded He was armed. Tinnie was the only Tate I knew who faced the world outside unarmed. \u201cGarrett. Haven\u2019t seen you for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTinnie and I were feuding again.\u201d<\/p>\n

He frowned. \u201cShe went out a couple hours ago. I thought she was headed your way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was. I came to see Uncle Willard. It\u2019s important.\u201d The kid\u2019s eyes got big. Then he grinned. I guess he figured I was going to pop the question. He opened up. \u201cCan\u2019t guarantee he\u2019ll see you. You know how he is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell him it can\u2019t wait till it\u2019s convenient.\u201d<\/p>\n

He muttered, \u201cMust have been hell being snowed in.\u201d He locked the gate. \u201cRose will be devastated.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll live.\u201d Rose was Willard\u2019s daughter, his only surviving offspring, hotter than three little bonfires and as twisted as a rope of braided snakes. \u201cShe always bounces back.\u201d<\/p>\n

The kid snickered. None of the Tates had much use for Rose. She was pure trouble. And she never learned.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell Uncle you\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I went into the central garden to wait. It looked forlorn. Summertimes it\u2019s a work of art. The Tates all have apartments in the surrounding buildings, They live there, work there, are born and die there. Some never go outside.<\/p>\n

The kid came back looking pained. Willard had scalded his tail for letting me in but apparently hadn\u2019t told him to get hurt trying to throw me out.<\/p>\n

The thought made me grin. The kid was as big as any Tate gets, about five two. Willard once told me there was elvish blood in the family. It made the girls exotic and gorgeous and the guys handsome but damned near short enough to walk under a horse without banging their heads.<\/p>\n

Willard Tate was no bigger than the rest of his clan. A gnome, almost. He was bald on top, had ragged gray hair that hung to his shoulders in back and on the sides. He was bent over his workbench tapping brass nails into the heel of a shoe. He wore a pair of TenHagen cheaters with square lenses. Those don\u2019t come cheap.<\/p>\n

One feeble lamp battled the dark. Tate worked by touch, really. \u201cYou\u2019ll ruin your eyes if you don\u2019t spring for more light.\u201d Tate is one of the wealthiest men in TunFaire and one of the tightest with a sceat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have one minute, Garrett.\u201d His lumbago was acting up. Or something Couldn\u2019t be me.<\/p>\n

\u201cStraight at it, then. Tinnie\u2019s been stabbed.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me for half the time he\u2019d given me. Then he put his tools aside. \u201cYou have your faults, but you wouldn\u2019t say that unless you meant it. Tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I told him.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t say anything for a while. He just stared, not at me but at ghosts lurking behind me. His had been a life plagued by loss. His wife, his kids, his brother, all had gone before their time.<\/p>\n

He surprised me by not laying it off on me \u201cYou got the man who did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s dead. I ran through it again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish I could have had a piece of him.\u201d He rang a bell. One of his nephews responded. Tate told him, \u201cSend for Dr Meddin. Now. And turn out a half-dozen men to walk Mr Garrett home.\u201d Now I had me a \u201cmister.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d The nephew bounced off on a recruiting tour.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything else, Mr. Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could tell me why anybody would want to kill Tinnie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause she was involved with you. To get at you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot of people don\u2019t like me.\u201d Present company included. \u201cBut none of them work like that. They wanted to get my goat, they\u2019d burn my house down. With me inside it<\/p>\n

\u201cThen it has to be senseless. Random violence or mistaken identity.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure she wasn\u2019t into anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe only thing Tinnie was involved in was you.\u201d He didn\u2019t say it but I could hear him thinking, Maybe this will learn her a lesson. \u201cShe never left the place except to see you.<\/p>\n

I nodded. Undoubtedly he kept track.<\/p>\n

I wanted to believe it was random. TunFaire is overcrowded and hagridden by poverty and hardly a day passes when somebody doesn\u2019t whittle on somebody with a hatchet or do cosmetic surgery with a hammer. I would have bought it except for those guys who danced the waltzes with me and Saucerhead.<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cWhen we caught him, the guy said \u2018the book\u2019 just before his friends croaked him.\u201d If those were his friends. \u201cMean anything to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tate shook his head. That straggly hair pranced around. \u201cI didn\u2019t figure it would. Damn. You get any ideas, let me know. And I\u2019ll keep you posted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do that.\u201d My minute had stretched. He wanted to get back to work.<\/p>\n

The nephew returned and announced he had a squad assembled. I said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry, sir. I\u2019d rather it had been me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo would I.\u201d Yes. He agreed a hundred percent. Man. You be nice to some people. .<\/p>\n

5<\/h1>\n

I plopped into my chair, reported to the Dead Man while the Tate boys collected Tinnie. They had a cart to carry her home. The best medical care would be waiting. It was out of my hands now.<\/p>\n

Nothing gained, the Dead Man sent when I finished.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think Tate hit it. They got the wrong woman. You\u2019ve been around awhile.\u201d Like half of forever. \u201cYou sure \u2018the book\u2019 doesn\u2019t ring any bells?\u201d<\/p>\n

None. There are books and books, Garrett. Even some men would kill for, considering their rarity or content. I do not hazard uninformed guesses. We cannot, now, be sure that man even meant a book as such. He may have meant a gambling book. He may have meant a personal journal capable of indicating someone. We do not know. Try to relax. Have a meal. Accept the situation, then put it behind you.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody came around asking about the dead men?\u201d TunFaire\u2019s Watch aren\u2019t exactly police. Their main mission is to keep an eye out for fires or threats to our overlords. Catching criminals is way down their list, but sometimes they do bumble around and nab a baddie. TunFaire is blessed with some pretty stupid villains.<\/p>\n

No one came Go eat, Garrett. Attend to the needs of the flesh. Allow the spirit to relax and become refreshed. Forget it. All is well that ends well.<\/p>\n

Good advice, even coming from him. But he\u2019s always so damned reasonable and wise\u2014when he isn\u2019t trying to play games with my mind. He got my goat, being cool and sensible. I headed for the kitchen<\/p>\n

Dean was in shock still, distraught because uncaring fate had cast a cold eye so close to home. His mind was a thousand miles away as he stirred some kind of sauce. He didn\u2019t look at me as he handed me a plate he\u2019d kept warm. I ate without noticing what, which is a crime itself, considering the class cook Dean is. I was drifting around a few yards away myself. I didn\u2019t interrupt the old man\u2019s brooding. I was pleased that he cared.<\/p>\n

I rose to leave. Dean turned. \u201cPeople shouldn\u2019t ought to do like that, Mr. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right. They shouldn\u2019t ought. You\u2019re a religious sort. Tell the gods thanks for not making it worse than it was.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. He\u2019s a gentle sort generally, a hardworking old fellow trying to support an ungrateful gaggle of eligible but terminally homely nieces who give him more grief than any ten men deserve from their female kin. Generally. Right now he had him a bloodthirst bigger than a vampire who hadn\u2019t fed for a year.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t relax. It was over, but my nerves just wouldn\u2019t settle. I prowled up the hail to the front door, peeked outside. Then I checked the small front room to the right like there might be a forgotten blonde cached in there. I was fresh out. I trudged back to the deluxe coffin I call an office, waved at Eleanor on the wall, then crossed the hall to the Dead Man\u2019s room. That takes up most of the left side of the house. It contains not only himself but our library and treasury and everything we particularly value Nothing for me there. I glanced up the stairs without going up, went into the kitchen, and got a mug of apple juice. Then I did the whole route over, taking a little longer at the door to see if my place had become a dwarfish tourist attraction. I didn\u2019t see any watchers. Time dragged.<\/p>\n

I got on everybody\u2019s nerves. That\u2019s what I do best, anyway, but now I was fraying my own. Now even I resented my mumbled wisecracks. When Dean growled and tested the heft of his favorite frying pan, I decided to take myself upstairs.<\/p>\n

For a while I looked out a window, watching for<\/p>\n

Saucerhead or somebody in a black hat watching me back. The watched pot didn\u2019t boil.<\/p>\n

When I got tired of that, I visited the closet where I keep the more lethal tools of my trade. It\u2019s a nifty little arsenal, something for every occasion, something to go with every outfit. You never catch me carrying a weapon that clashes.<\/p>\n

Everything was in tip-top shape I couldn\u2019t work off any nervous energy sharpening and polishing. I eyeballed the ensemble. Nothing I had was worth much in a scrimmage with crossbowmen.<\/p>\n

I did have a few little bottles left over from the time I\u2019d done undercover work for the Grand Inquisitor. I took the case down, looked inside Three bottles, one emerald, one royal blue, one ruby, each about two ounces. You threw them. Once they broke, the stuff inside took the fight right out of guys. The contents of the red one would melt the flesh off their bones I was saving that for somebody who really got on my nerves. If I ever used it, I\u2019d have to stand back a ways.<\/p>\n

I put the case away, secreted knives all over me, hung the longest tool legal on my belt, then took down my most useful all-round instrument, an oaken headthumper eighteen inches long. It had a pound of lead inside the business end. It did wonders making me more convincing when I got into an argument<\/p>\n

So what was I going to do now? Go looking for some villains, just on general principles? Sure. Right. The way my luck runs, I\u2019d have a building fall on me before I found any bad boys to astonish and dismay.<\/p>\n

I managed to kill time till supper came along. I spent most of it trying to figure out why I was restless and uneasy. Tinnie had been hurt, but she was going to make<\/p>\n

it. Saucerhead and I had\u2014sort of\u2014dissuaded her attacker from becoming a repeat offender. Everything had turned out all right. Things were going to be fine.<\/p>\n

Sure.<\/p>\n

6<\/h1>\n

I didn\u2019t get much sleep that night.<\/p>\n

It was a time of weirdness for TunFaire, maybe because of the weather. The whole world had turned cockeyed, not just me with my running and my going to bed early so I could get up before anybody sane was oriented vertically. Mammoths had been seen from the city wall. Saber-tooth tigers were at large within a day\u2019s travel. There were rumors of werewolves. There were rumors of thunder-lizards being sighted near KirtchHeis, just sixty miles north of TunFaire, two hundred south of their normal range. To our south, centaurs and unicorns, fleeing ferocious fighting in the Cantard, had penetrated Karentine territory Every night, here in the city, the sky filled with squabbling morCartha, weird creatures who traditionally confined their brawls to rain-forested valleys on the marches of thunder-lizard country.<\/p>\n

Where the morCartha disappeared during the day no one knew\u2014nobody gave a big enough care to find out\u2014 but all night they zoomed over the rooftops settling old tribal scores or swooped down to mug citizens or to steal anything not nailed down. Most people accepted their presence as proof the thunder-lizards were migrating. In their own country morCartha lived in the treetops and slept during the day. That would make them easy snacks for the taller thunder-lizards Some of these stand more than thirty feet tall.<\/p>\n

Despite the morning\u2019s excitement I tried going to bed at what Dean and the Dead Man perversely call a reasonable hour. My theory was that if I rolled out early,<\/p>\n

my neighbors wouldn\u2019t be out to giggle and point at the spectacle of Garrett running laps. But that night the morCartha brought their flying carnival to my neighborhood. It sounded like the aerial battle of the century. Blood and broken bodies and war cries and taunts rained down. Whenever I threatened to drift off, they staged some absurd, cacophonous confrontation right outside my window.<\/p>\n

I decided it was time somebody on the Hill suffered a stroke of smarts and enlisted them all as mercenaries and sent them down to the Cantard to look for Glory Mooncalled. Let him lose sleep while they squabbled over his head.<\/p>\n

Old Glory probably wasn\u2019t getting much sleep, anyway. The Karentine powers that be had thrown everything into the cauldron down there They were grinding his upstart republic fine, inexorably and inevitably, permitting him no chance to catch his breath and turn his genius toward their despair.<\/p>\n

The war between Karenta and Venageta has been going on since my grandfather\u2019s time It\u2019s become as much a part of life as the weather. Glory Mooncalled started out a mercenary captain in Venageti service, had a major falling out with the Venageti warlords, and came over to our side swearing mighty oaths of vengeance. Once he had smashed everybody who offended him, he suddenly declared the Cantard\u2014possession of which is what the war is all about\u2014an autonomous republic. All the Cantard\u2019s native nonhuman races supported him. So, for the moment, Karenta and Venageta have a common cause, the obliteration of Glory Mooncalled. Once he\u2019s gone, it\u2019ll be back to war as usual.<\/p>\n

All of which is of more interest to the Dead Man than me. I did my five years in the Marines and survived. I don\u2019t want to remember. The Dead Man does. Glory Mooncalled is his hobby.<\/p>\n

Whatever, I didn\u2019t sleep well and I was less cheerful than usual when I got up, which is saying something. On my best mornings I\u2019m human only by charity. Morning is the lousiest time of day. The lower the sun in the east, the lousier that time is.<\/p>\n

The racket in the street started about the time I got my feet on the floor.<\/p>\n

A woman screamed. She was frightened. Nothing galvanizes me so quickly. I was down at the door with a small arsenal before I started thinking. Somebody was pounding on that door now, yelling my name and begging to be let in. I peeped through the peephole. One ounce of brain was working. I saw a woman\u2019s face. Terrified. I fumbled at bolts, yanked the door open.<\/p>\n

A naked woman stumbled inside. I gawked for half a minute before my brain started chugging. Then I checked the street. I saw nothing till a thing slightly larger than a spider monkey, built along similar lines but hairless and red, with batlike wings instead of arms and with a spadelike point at the end of its tail, crashed and flopped around, squealing. A city ratman ambled over. The moment it stopped moving, he shoveled it into his wheeled trash bin. The creature\u2019s kin didn\u2019t protest or claim the body. The morCartha are indifferent to their dead.<\/p>\n

So now they were doing it in the daytime, too. If you could call it daytime Just because it was light out. Personally, I don\u2019t believe daytime really starts till the sun is straight overhead.<\/p>\n

I slammed the door, spun around. The woman had collapsed. What I saw in that bad light was enough to make my hair stand up and get split ends.<\/p>\n

Not a stitch on her, like I said, but she had the body to wear that kind of outfit. She clutched a raggedly wrapped package in her left hand. I couldn\u2019t pry it loose.<\/p>\n

The word flabbergasted gets bandied about in this age of exaggeration, but you don\u2019t often get into a situation where it\u2019s appropriate. This was a time when it was appropriate. I didn\u2019t know what to do.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t get me wrong. I\u2019ve got nothing against naked women. Especially nothing against naked women when they\u2019re beautiful and running around my house. Most especially not when I\u2019m chasing them and they have no Intention of getting away. But I\u2019d never had one come to the door all ready to race. I\u2019d never had one drop in and instantly transport herself to dreamland with such diligence that I couldn\u2019t wake her again.<\/p>\n

I was still trying to figure out what to do when Dean showed up for work.<\/p>\n

Dean is my housekeeper and cook, in case you haven\u2019t figured that out. He\u2019s a sour-faced but sentimental guy about a thousand years old who should have been born a woman because he\u2019d make somebody a great wife. He can cook and keep house and has a tongue to match the nastiest of them. He took one look at the woman. \u201cI just cleaned that carpet, Mr. Garrett. Couldn\u2019t you confine your games to the second floor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just let her in, Dean. She came this way, right off the street. I opened the door, she stumbled in and passed out. Maybe she was hit by the morCartha. She\u2019s gone into a fugue I can\u2019t wake her up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMust you stare so shamelessly?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t notice you studying the fly specks on the ceiling.\u201d He wasn\u2019t that old. Nobody ever gets that old. And the lady deserved a stare or two. She was the nicest package I\u2019d had stumble in in a long time. \u201cHell, yes, I must. How often do the gods bother to send us the answer to our prayers?\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019s more alert at that hour than I\u2019ll ever be. He honestly believes that getting up before sunrise is a virtue, poor misguided soul. \u201cAttempt at levity noted, Mr. Garrett Noted and found wanting. I suggest we move her to the daybed and cover her, then get some breakfast into you. You\u2019re less at the mercy of adolescent fantasies once you\u2019ve gotten your blood moving.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cHow sharper than a serpent\u2019s tooth is the tongue of an ingrate servant.\u201d<\/p>\n

He knew I couldn\u2019t be talking about him. He wasn\u2019t a servant. He was an in-house working partner.<\/p>\n

He grabbed the woman\u2019s ankles. I took the heavy end. Maybe he was put out because the woman had gotten several of his nieces\u2019 shares of natural goodies. \u201cRed hair, too,\u201d I muttered. \u201cIsn\u2019t that nice?\u201d I\u2019m a sucker for redheads. I\u2019ve been known to favor the occasional blonde, brunette, whatever, too.<\/p>\n

Dean would just say I\u2019m a sucker. He might have a point.<\/p>\n

We put her on the daybed in the small front room, on the right side of the house. Your left, coming in the front door. She hung on to her package. Once she was set, I moved to the kitchen. Reluctantly. I was thinking maybe I should be there for her when she woke up, just in case she needed to throw herself into somebody\u2019s arms and be comforted.<\/p>\n

Dean filled me up with breakfast. As I finished up Saucerhead arrived, to supervise me in my pursuit of physical excellence. Or incapacitating cramps, whichever came first. We yakked over tea for a while, me somehow forgetting to mention my nude. Would you tell a pirate where you\u2019d found buried treasure. Then we went outside and got busy with our respective exercise regimens. I wore him down. He ran out of fingers before I ran out of laps.<\/p>\n

Puffing and panting and aching, I forgot my mystery guest. Puffing and wheezing is a full-time job.<\/p>\n

7<\/h1>\n

Last lap. Beer ahead. Relief only a few yards away. I came off Wizard\u2019s Reach full speed, about a walk and a half, snorting like a wounded buffalo, listing from side to side, steering like a ship without a rudder. Only my neighbors watching kept me from getting down and crawling the last hundred feet<\/p>\n

I\u2019d lost count of my laps. Saucerhead had slipped a few extra in on me. I hadn\u2019t figured that out till a minute ago. If I lived, I\u2019d get even with him if it was the last thing I did. If that involved running, it would be the last thing I did.<\/p>\n

I had my chin down. You\u2019re not supposed to do that, but I had to keep an eye on my feet. Otherwise they might quit. Meanwhile, I tried to figure how many laps Tharpe had shafted me. I\u2019d lost count because there had been no landmark events to separate one lap from another. There were none to help me come up with an actual number, either. But I knew he\u2019d done it to me.<\/p>\n

I reached the foot of the steps honking and snorting, grabbed the handrail, dragged myself up toward the pitcher that would help put the misery behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis the character I\u2019m looking for?\u201d The voice wasn\u2019t familiar.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s him.\u201d Saucerhead. \u201cDon\u2019t look like much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t help that. I ain\u2019t his mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

My pal. I got my chin up. Huff. Puff. Saucerhead wasn\u2019t atone. Being brilliant, I\u2019d worked that out, all ready. What I hadn\u2019t figured out was that he was talking to a woman. Maybe.<\/p>\n

At first glance she looked like Tharpe\u2019s big sister. Maybe she had a touch of giant in her. She was taller than me by an inch. She had stringy blonde hair that would\u2019ve been nice if she\u2019d washed and combed it. In fact, she had nice stuff in all the right places, only she was so damned big. And so uncaringly kempt. And looked so damned hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe name\u2019s Winger, Garrett,\u201d she said. \u201cHunter.\u201d Her stance dared me to treat her like a lady. She wasn\u2019t dressed like any lady. Lots of worn leather and stuff, that needed cleaning as much as she did. Lots of metal, stuff hanging all over her. She looked like a hunter. She looked like she could whip thunder-lizards with one hand tied behind her. Hell, she could knock them down with her breath.<\/p>\n

The name meant nothing to me. She had to be new in town. I would have heard of an amazon like her if she was a regular.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019m Garrett. So what?\u201d Still gulping air by the bucket, I couldn\u2019t get gracious.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m looking for work. New in town.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo kidding?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople I talked to said we might could kind of team up sometimes.\u201d She looked at Saucerhead, jerked her head at me. \u201cKind of puny to have such a big rep.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tharpe grinned. \u201cThings get exaggerated.\u201d He was loving it, The big goof. The way he was grinning I was sure there were wonders yet to come.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot much call for hunters in the city,\u201d I told her. \u201cWe can catch our dinner at the corner butcher.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that kind of hunter, Ace. Manhunter. Bounty hunter.\u201d Just in case I\u2019d mistaken her meaning. \u201cTracker.\u201d Her gaze was hard and steady. She worked at being tough. \u201cTrying to make contacts. Trying to get set up. I don\u2019t want to have to cross the line to make it.\u201d<\/p>\n

She had small hands for a woman her size. Her nails were trimmed neatly. But her palms were used to hard work. Looked like she could bust boards with them. Or backs. I wanted to chuckle but decided I might be smart to keep my amusement to myself. Not more than ten thousand people ever said I wasn\u2019t smart. \u201cWhat do you want from me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhyn\u2019t we get in out of the sun, set a spell, down a few brews, let me tell you what I can do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Saucerhead was behind her now. Grinning from ear to ear. She must have tried to sell him already. I kept a straight face. \u201cSure. Why not?\u201d I hammered on the door, glared Tharpe a dagger or three. He thought he\u2019d set me up. I was going to get him for this. Right after I got him for skewing the lap count. Right after I got him for about seven other things on my list.<\/p>\n

Dean opened up. He looked at Winger in awe. She snapped, \u201cWhat you staring at, runt?\u201d Still working hard at that tough.<\/p>\n

\u201cDean, we\u2019ll be in the office. Bring us a pitcher, After you lock up.\u201d No more free drinks for Tharpe.<\/p>\n

I stepped out of Winger\u2019s way. \u201cStraight up the hail.\u201d<\/p>\n

I followed her while Dean locked up. She looked around like she was trying to memorize every crack in the walls.<\/p>\n

I guess Saucerhead was outside har-harring.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake that chair,\u201d I told Winger, indicating the client\u2019s seat. It\u2019s wooden, hard as a rock. It\u2019s supposed to discourage prolonged visits. They\u2019re supposed to sit there only long enough to tell me what they have to, not long enough to bury me in trivia. Theoretically. The real whiners enjoy being miserable.<\/p>\n

Winger kept looking around like she was sneaking through enemy territory. I asked, \u201cYou looked for anything in particular?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou stay alert when you\u2019re a woman in a man\u2019s racket.\u201d Another dose of tough.<\/p>\n

\u201cI imagine. What can I do for you, anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike I said, I\u2019m new here. I need to make contacts, You could use an extra hand sometimes, probably. Finding people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d Her alertness had me wound up now, She had something on her mind.<\/p>\n

Dean brought the pitcher. 1 poured. Winger downed a mug, stared at the painting behind me. She shivered. Eleanor can have that effect. The man who painted her was a mad genius. He filled her portrait with indefinable creepiness.<\/p>\n

I glanced back. And Winger moved so fast I barely had time to face her again before she had a knife at my throat. A long knife. A knife that looked like a two-handed broadsword right about then. \u201cI\u2019m looking for a book, Garrett. A big one You wouldn\u2019t have it, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sure I wouldn\u2019t. \u201cI wish I did.\u201d Rut her tone said she wasn\u2019t going to believe that. She wasn\u2019t going to get confused by facts.<\/p>\n

Her knife pricked my throat. Her hand was steady. She was a pro. Not even a little nervous. Me neither. Not much. \u201cI don\u2019t have it. How come you think I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t tell me. \u201cI\u2019m going to look. I\u2019m going to take this place apart. You want to stay healthy, stay out of my way. You want your house to stay healthy, give me the book now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I gave her a look at my fluttering-eyebrow trick. I tossed in a big smile. \u201cHave fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled back. \u201cThink you can take me? Don\u2019t even think about trying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLittle old me? Perish the thought. Hey, Chuckles. Time to do your stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

Winger glanced around. Her knife hand remained steady. She couldn\u2019t figure out who the hell I was talking to. \u201cWho the hell you talking to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy partner.\u201d<\/p>\n

She opened her mouth. That was as far as she got. The Dead Man turned her into a living statue. In the last instant her expression turned to horror. I edged away from her knife, got out of my chair. \u201cYou got nerve,\u201d I said. She could hear and understand. \u201cBut nerve isn\u2019t everything.\u201d Nobody who\u2019d studied me would try to take me in my own house. The Dead Man doesn\u2019t get out much, but that hasn\u2019t kept him from acquiring a reputation.<\/p>\n

I patted Winger\u2019s considerable shoulder. It was rock hard. \u201cLive and learn, sweetheart.\u201d I finished my mug, strolled across the hall. \u201cWhat\u2019s the story, Smiley?\u201d<\/p>\n

No story, Garrett. She has told you everything. She is looking for a book. This is her first job in TunFaire. She was hired by a man named Lubbock. He paid her thirty marks to shake you down. He will give her forty more if she finds the book.<\/p>\n

\u201cInteresting coincidence. What\u2019s she know about that gang yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n

Nothing. Obviously she was selected for that reason. She can tell no one anything because she knows nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess friend Lubbock did his research.\u201d<\/p>\n

Perhaps.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe has an accent.\u201d She was Karentine but from way out there somewhere.<\/p>\n

Hender. West Midlands.<\/p>\n

\u201cNever heard of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not surprising. Population less than a hundred. A farming village. A suggestion. Assuming your curiosity has been piqued, as mine has, have her watched. Her contacts might prove interesting. It seems likely that Lubbock is not her employer\u2019s real name. She believes it to be a pseudonym herself<\/p>\n

Sounded good to me. Something was going on. And I don\u2019t like sitting around waiting for things to happen. \u201cRight. Can\u2019t use Saucerhead, though. She knows his face. I could dash over to Morley\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

Quickly?<\/p>\n

Sarky old clown can put a lot into a single word. He\u2019d recovered from his earlier consideration for my feelings, was back to letting me know what he thought of my ways.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

I got back faster than either of us expected. I had some luck.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead was still loafing on the stoop. He hadn\u2019t finished the pitcher Dean had provided for my run. He had company again, a local blackheart called Squirrel. I don\u2019t know Squirrel\u2019s real name. I never heard him called anything else. He was a skinny little gink with atrocious posture, a pointy face and buckteeth, and huge ears that stuck straight out from the side of his head. He\u2019d have trouble making any headway walking into a light breeze.<\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t call him Squirrel because of his looks.<\/p>\n

Somebody left something out when they gave him his brains. He was a first-class goolball.<\/p>\n

And a second-class thug.<\/p>\n

He worked for Chodo Contague. He was more than a gofer but not one of the heavyweights, like Sadler and Crask. I didn\u2019t know Squirrel well but did know he wasn\u2019t somebody who was going to elevate the standards of the neighborhood.<\/p>\n

I looked at him. He gave me a grin full of teeth. Friendly as hell. That was Squirrel. Always trying to be your pal\u2014till it came time to put a knife in your back. Squirrel desperately wanted to be liked. And wanted to make Chodo\u2019s first team even more. \u201cGarrett. The boss heard about your trouble.\u201d Chodo hears everything, \u201cSent me over to help. Said if you need anything, just yell. Said he don\u2019t hold with anybody hurting women.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sure he didn\u2019t. Unless they worked for him, showed a wisp of independence. But he probably doesn\u2019t consider hookers women.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t want to take anything from Chodo, but, on the other hand, using Squirrel was so damned convenient. So what the hell \u201cYou showed up at the perfect time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Squirrel grinned. He loved praise. If that was praise. Weird little guy. \u201cHow\u2019s your woman, Garrett? I should\u2019ve asked. Chodo wanted to know. Said he\u2019d send somebody to look after her if you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll be fine. Her family is taking care of her.\u201d They could afford the same quality care Chodo could provide. \u201cIf something turns bad, they\u2019ll let me know.\u201d Willard would do that. He\u2019d expect me to hunt down everybody even remotely responsible if Tinnie died. Then he\u2019d cut out their livers and eat them.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I\u2019m right on time. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

I shivered. Squirrel had a whiny voice to go with an ingratiating manner. Slimy little weasel. But dangerous. Very dangerous.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a woman going to come out of here. Tall blonde amazon type. Follow her. See where she goes. Be careful. She\u2019s maybe some bad road.\u201d I had no idea how good Squirrel was. His only recommendation was that he had stayed alive so far.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can handle it.\u201d Like he heard me wondering.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d Saucerhead asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe pulled a knife on me. Wanted a book The Dead Man put her in freeze<\/p>\n

\u201cA book again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou getting into it even if Tinnie\u2019s all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay I\u2019m curious.\u201d I wasn\u2019t getting into anything. I didn\u2019t have a client. I don\u2019t like work, anyway. I mean, why bother as long as I\u2019ve got a roof over my head and something to eat?<\/p>\n

On the other hand, I might fish a fee out of this somehow And it does take money to pay Dean and to keep the house from falling down.<\/p>\n

\u201cSpread out,\u201d I told those two. \u201cSaucerhead, take off. She\u2019d recognize you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. You need me, check Morley\u2019s place.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waved them good-bye. Slipped inside, stuck my head into the Dead Man\u2019s room, whispered, \u201cTurn her loose?\u201d I whispered because I didn\u2019t want Winger to hear me.<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

I returned to my office, pried the knife out of Winger\u2019s hand, settled myself, started cleaning my nails. The Dead Man turned loose. If somebody could jump out of their skin, Winger would have. \u201cWelcome to the big city, Winger. Something to keep in mind. Everybody has a trick up his sleeve here<\/p>\n

She gobbled air and headed for the hallway. I asked, \u201cYou mind telling me where to find Lubbock? Can\u2019t say I like people I don\u2019t know sicking hired blades on me.\u201d<\/p>\n

That shook her even more. She hadn\u2019t mentioned the name.<\/p>\n

I followed her to the door, adding more questions calculated to rattle her so she wouldn\u2019t look for Squirrel. She was almost running when she hit the street.<\/p>\n

I looked around. I didn\u2019t see Squirrel or Saucerhead. I didn\u2019t spot anybody interested in my place, either. I went inside to talk to Dean about supper.<\/p>\n

8<\/h1>\n

Dean didn\u2019t want any suggestions He never does, but he doesn\u2019t mind having me offer. Then he can turn me down.<\/p>\n

I settled at the table. Dean asked, \u201cWhat was that all about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure. Somebody called Lubbock sent her to shake me down for a book.\u201d<\/p>\n

He frowned. He\u2019s mastered the art. His face turns into a badland of shadowed canyons \u201cThat fellow who stabbed Miss Tinnie . .<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something going on. Another genius. My place is lousy with them.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou going to find out what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe \u201c I didn\u2019t have much inclination. The world is full of mysteries Do I have to solve them all? Without even anybody paying me? But I did wonder why Winger had come to me.<\/p>\n

Somebody pounded on the front door. I grumbled something about maybe it was time to move. Too many people knew where I lived. Dean said, \u201cThat\u2019s Mr. Tharpe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can tell from here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know his knock.\u201d<\/p>\n

Right. Sure he did. But why argue? Let him have his little fantasies. I headed up the hall…\u201d Whoa!\u201d There was Saucerhead. Inside. \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked a little croggled himself. \u201cIt just opened up when I knocked.\u201d He stared at the door like it would maybe sprout fangs.<\/p>\n

Couldn\u2019t be. I\u2019d locked it myself. That\u2019s a prime rule. There are people on those mean streets dumb enough to drop in. Dumb enough not to worry about the Dead Man. I just sent one packing.<\/p>\n

I puzzled it for half a minute before I caught a glimmer of a possibility. \u201cThree geniuses!\u201d Saucerhead scowled, baffled I popped my head into the small front room.<\/p>\n

My guest had vanished \u201cDean!\u201d I\u2019d forgotten her in the excitement of my run and those cozy moments with Winger<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething\u2019s missing.\u201d I indicated the small front room. \u201cAnd Saucerhead found the door open.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean looked properly amazed. He went into the room and sniffed around, making sure everything was there. Like it was his own stuff. \u201cThe blanket is gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

She would\u2019ve taken something. You have to work to attract attention on a TunFaire street, but naked will do it every time<\/p>\n

Saucerhead asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know as much as I do. Dean, get Mr. Tharpe a beer. I\u2019m going to talk to the Dead Man.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean herded Saucerhead toward the kitchen. I dropped in on my permanent guest, who\u2014I sensed before I said a word\u2014had fallen into a surly mood. His natural state. \u201cWhat\u2019s eating you all of a sudden?\u201d<\/p>\n

You failed to mention this visitor who has vanished.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy should I?\u201d He knew all the comings and goings. He was so disturbed he didn\u2019t prance around it. I was unaware of her presence. This is unprecedented. I had not thought it possible. He went off somewhere inside himself, looking for explanations for the impossible.<\/p>\n

He was disturbed? I was beside myself. On both sides. All three of me were one breath short of a panic. Somebody could come and go around here without us having any warning?<\/p>\n

\u201cThis doesn\u2019t sound good, Mr. Garrett,\u201d Dean said from behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot only a genius but a master of understatement.\u201d I considered. \u201cShe can\u2019t have much of a head start. She\u2019ll stand out in the crowd. I better catch her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCatch who?\u201d Saucerhead asked. So I explained. \u201cNaked women just falling through your door.\u201d He sneered. \u201cHow do you do it? That don\u2019t never happen to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t live right. We don\u2019t have time to hang around yakking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe? You got a pixie in your pocket?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d be impressed. That is, if you ever saw her. Imagine Tinnie but with a little more in the lung department.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t up to much else anyway. Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

But that little weasel of a god who watches out for Garrett\u2019s affairs didn\u2019t figure I ought to go chasing redheads. No sense of proportion at all.<\/p>\n

9<\/h1>\n

Maybe he was just trying to save my legs. He did deliver another one to my door.<\/p>\n

Dean was there already. He\u2019d been fixing to let us out when the knock came. Now he was wringing his hands. I asked, \u201cWhat have we got?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnother woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

I opened up and looked her over. That took a while. You\u2019re going to do a job, do it right. There was plenty there to appreciate, though in a small package. I was surprised the whole neighborhood wasn\u2019t howling. Hot stuff. All the right goodies packed together in all the best ways. Big green eyes. Big, big green eyes. Lips a dangerous red and puffy, the kind that yell, \u201cCome and get it, I can take it, what are you waiting for?\u201d Breasts like man oh man how did she get that on and how does she keep them in there?<\/p>\n

But.<\/p>\n

She was a little thing, maybe five feet two on her tiptoes. And she was another redhead. She had lots of wild red hair the way Tinnie had wild red hair. The way my naked visitor had had wild red hair. In fact, she was a ringer for that gal but definitely not the same woman. I wondered if she was a sister. Or was that little weasel in the sky just poking me in the eye by piling on the redheads?<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t say anything. I couldn\u2019t. I just led her into that pretentious closet I call an office. Dean brought a pitcher without being asked. He looked numb. The way I was going to be numb if I kept getting pitchers delivered.<\/p>\n

Another redhead. I hoped some light was going to get shed here. Real soon.<\/p>\n

All of a sudden I was convinced that guy with the mustache had thought he was hitting this woman, or the naked one, when he\u2019d stabbed Tinnie. 1 settled, drank a mug, studied her. She looked back boldly, still without having spoken. She didn\u2019t go for come-hither but, damn, it was built in, part of the package. She was the kind of woman who\u2019d sit there and smolder while darning her grandfather\u2019s socks. The kind that makes me want to run out back and yell at the sky in sheer joy that I share the same world.<\/p>\n

I squeaked. \u201cI\u2019m Garrett. I guess you want to see me.\u201d Sometimes I\u2019m so cool I amaze even me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes what? I took a drink so I wouldn\u2019t pant all over her. I believe in long courtships. Fifteen minutes at least. I swallowed and croaked, \u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need someone to help me. Someone like you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grinned from ear to ear. Could I help her? You betcha . . . I\u2019d give it my best shot. . . . Hey! Garrett! Let\u2019s calm down a little. Let\u2019s get the chemistry under control. Anyway, I\u2019d already begun to suspect that this wasn\u2019t a match made in heaven. She was smoldering, but that wasn\u2019t my fault. That, was just her being her. Whoever she was. \u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need someone to find something for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I do. Find things. But sometimes people are sorry when I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

She just sat there heating the place up while I started to sweat. I turned sideways and studied Eleanor out of the corner of my eye. A tall, cool, slim, ethereal blonde, Eleanor has what it takes to bring me back to earth. I talk to Eleanor when no one else will listen. She\u2019s my rock in turbulent seas. I wondered what the real Eleanor would think if she knew how I used her portrait. I didn\u2019t think she\u2019d mind.<\/p>\n

The redhead asked, \u201cIs that someone special?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Her name was Eleanor Stantnor. She was the wife of a client. I never really met her. He murdered her twenty years before he hired me. All he got for his trouble was found out for his old crime. I took the painting for my fee. Yeah. She\u2019s special. And if she was around, she\u2019d be as old as my mother. But I\u2019d probably fall in love with her anyway.\u201d I faced the redhead. \u201cLet\u2019s get down to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave I come at a bad time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve come at the perfect rime. You\u2019re almost a ringer for a friend of mine somebody tried to kill out front yesterday. I have a feeling you could maybe shed some light on why.\u201d<\/p>\n

She started to say something. What I\u2019d said sank in. Her mouth made an 0. Her eyes got even bigger. She started to get up, sank back, shook fetchingly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy friend\u2019s name is Tinnie Tate. She never hurt anybody. She\u2019s got hair like yours and she\u2019s about your height. A little less rounded, here and there, near as I can tell from here, but not enough so anyone could make a case of it. She was coming to see me when some scumbag stuck a knife in her. For no damned reason I could figure till I got a look at you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, my,\u201d she breathed. \u201cI\u2019ve got to get out of here. He knows. I\u2019ve got to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t going anywhere, sweetheart. Not till I know what the hell is going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

She just sat there oh-mying and heating up the room. I thought about having Dean throw cold water on her, but that would just steam the place up and cause the wallpaper to peel. I said, \u201cTinnie getting hurt makes me mad. Some other guys, too. Some bad people. Rich people. Her people. They want blood. You look like a gal who knows how to take care of herself. Maybe you wouldn\u2019t want to get caught in the middle of all those angry people.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her pretty little face turned puzzled.<\/p>\n

Was I trying to scare her? You bet I was.<\/p>\n

She just said, \u201cOh,\u201d like it wasn\u2019t very important.<\/p>\n

\u201cI figure the guy who stuck Tinnie thought he was getting you.\u201d Sure, I was fishing. You don\u2019t throw out a hook, you never get a nibble. \u201cThat\u2019s the only way it makes any sense. He mistook her for somebody else. So let\u2019s you and me get to the point.\u201d I got up and walked around the desk.<\/p>\n

\u201cI made a mistake coming here.\u201d She started to get up.<\/p>\n

I sat her down. \u201cYou made your mistake when you told somebody somewhere that you were thinking about coming here. That worried somebody. He tried to off my lady. Spill. I\u2019m not in a good mood anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

Actually, I was being gentle. I had the Dead Man across the hall. All I needed to do was keep her mind frothing so he could get at anything interesting in there.<\/p>\n

She tried to get up again. I sat her down with more force. She looked more irritated than scared. That didn\u2019t fit.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe story, lady. Maybe starting with your name.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked down at her hands. Man, those were fine hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Carla Lindo Ramada. I\u2019m a chambermaid in the home hold of Lord Baron Cleon Stonecipher.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNever heard of him.\u201d But if all his help looked like this, I\u2019d consider relocating. \u201cOut of town, I take it. What about this baron?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s kind of at the edge of the story. He\u2019s about two hundred years old and just lies in bed waiting to die. Only he has a curse on him. He can\u2019t. He just keeps getting older. But that\u2019s not important. The witch is. The one that put the curse on him. They call her the Serpent. She lives in the castle, too, only nobody ever sees her. Nobody knows what she looks like except her own men. All anybody really knows is she won\u2019t take the curse off the baron until he makes her his heir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe wants the castle. It sits way up in the Hamadan Mountains, near the border between Karenta and Therpra.<\/p>\n

Both kingdoms claim it, but neither has any real control.<\/p>\n

The Serpent wants the castle because it\u2019s invulnerable.\u2019<\/p>\n

I wondered if Miss Ramada could be half as slow as she sounded. I glanced at Eleanor. She didn\u2019t give me a clue. Hell. If she wasn\u2019t a genius, so what? She\u2019d never had to use her head. In this world women who look like that never have to work for anything. The only lesson they need to learn is how to pick the times to wag their tails.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo the point. What\u2019re you doing here? I want to know why Tinnie got stabbed. We\u2019ll get into background if it seems important.\u201d<\/p>\n

She showed that flicker of irritation again. \u201cThe Serpent was making a book. They called it a book of dreams or a book of shadows. The Baron thought she was putting most of her powers into it. He thought if he could grab it, he would run her out of the castle. He told his men to steal it. They waited till her guard was down. They grabbed the book. There was a fight. Most of the Baron\u2019s men were killed. So were a lot of the Serpent\u2019s guards. A man named Holme Blaine escaped with the book, but he didn\u2019t take it to the Baron. He brought it to TunFaire. The Baron sent me to get it back because I was the only one he trusted. When I asked around for someone who might help me your name kept coming up. I decided to see you. Here I am. But I think I made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had a strong feeling she wasn\u2019t telling me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. But the Dead Man could straighten out the little details. \u201cSee me why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to find the book of dreams.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sure. I looked at Eleanor. She gave me a blank stare in return. Not much help there, honey. I checked the redhead again. Damn, she was a sizzler. \u201cSo who tried to kill my friend? And why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Serpent\u2019s men, probably. I know they\u2019re here. I\u2019ve seen them. Did you see them?\u201d<\/p>\n

I described them carefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man with the mustache sounds like Elmore Flounce. Even his friends won\u2019t mourn him. The ratman might be Keem Lost Knife. Nastier than Flounce. The ogre could be Zacher Hoe, a hunter and tracker. But the Serpent has other ogres. The dwarves. . . I don\u2019t know. She had dozens around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHunh. Somewhere to start.\u201d I hoped the Dead Man was taking her apart inside<\/p>\n

The redhead started wringing her hands That isn\u2019t something you see much, especiafly in younger people. The only wringer I know is Dean. It seemed studied. \u201cWill you help me find Holme Blaine, Mr. Garrett? Will you help me recover the book of dreams? I\u2019m desperate.\u201d<\/p>\n

All alone and desperate, battered by powerful forces. A sure way to sew Garrett up Only I didn\u2019t feel her desperation. I was becoming disenchanted so fast I almost had to work to pant. String her along, Garrett. What\u2019s to lose? \u201cI have problems of my own. But if I come across your book, I\u2019ll snap it up.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave me a look that melted my spine despite my restored cynicism. It made me want to grab up Dean and the Dead Man and toss them into the street. She took out a doeskin sack, removed five silver coins. \u201cI have to keep a little to live on while you find the book. I\u2019m sorry I can\u2019t give you more. It\u2019s all we could scrape together. The Serpent grabs all the silver she can find.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silver had gotten scarce since Glory Mooncalled took over the mines in the Cantard. I opened my mouth to tell her she didn\u2019t need to beggar herself. The sucker side of me was wide-awake.<\/p>\n

Face it<\/p>\n

The Dead Man seldom sends a thought beyond the confines ot his own quarters. If he does, I don\u2019t argue. His reasons generally stand up. But having him jump in ruined my concentration. There were a hundred questions I should have asked the woman, but instead I said, \u201cI\u2019fl have a friend of mine see you safely to wherever you\u2019re staying\u201d Saucerhead was hanging around somewhere.<\/p>\n

She stood \u201cThat\u2019s not necessary<\/p>\n

\u201cI think it is. There\u2019s been a knife used once already. Probably meant for you. By now I expect the people who did it know they missed. Understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose.\u201d That irritation again. \u201cThank you. I\u2019m new at this. I don\u2019t expect people to be that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Really?<\/p>\n

She was good Give her that. She really was good. I called out, \u201cDean, tell Mr. Tharpe to see the lady safely tucked away home. Ask him to scout the area, see if she\u2019s being watched.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean stepped into the doorway, nodding. As I\u2019d suspected, he\u2019d been out there eavesdropping. \u201cMiss? If you will?\u201d He could turn on the charm for a guest, that old boy.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t think about the questions I should\u2019ve asked till after I heard the door close. But what the hell? I could get the answers from the Dead Man.<\/p>\n

10<\/h1>\n

Dean came back from the front door as I headed across the hail. \u201cShe was lying, Mr. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe wasn\u2019t telling the whole truth, that\u2019s for sure<\/p>\n

\u201cNot telling a word of it if you ask me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt shouldn\u2019t matter. Let\u2019s find out what old Smiley plucked out of the air between her ears<\/p>\n

Dean shivered I can\u2019t figure it, After all this time he ought to be used to the Dead Man.<\/p>\n

I added the Ramada woman\u2019s money to the pile under the Dead Man\u2019s chair. I settled into my own, glanced around. Dean had been slacking again He gets the creeps in there, so he lets cleanup slide till I jump on him or do it myself. The bugs were ready to take over. \u201cWhat did you think of my visitor?\u201d<\/p>\n

Will you never outgrow that adolescent sense of humor?<\/p>\n

Crumbs. Now he was getting on me for what I was thinking \u201cI hope not, Chuckles.\u201d There. Damned for it, I might as well say it. \u201cGrownups are so stodgy.\u201d<\/p>\n

As Dean observed, she was lying<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what\u2019s her real story?\u201d<\/p>\n

I dare not hazard a guess.<\/p>\n

Oh-oh. This didn\u2019t sound good<\/p>\n

I was unable to capture any but the most fleeting surface thoughts.<\/p>\n

Oh, my. What the hell? \u201cI thought you could read anybody \u201c This was getting to be a bad habit. Was he getting near the end, slipping over the edge?<\/p>\n

Only simple minds<\/p>\n

Ouch! \u201cAnd you complain about my sense of humor? What\u2019s it mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

That she is no chambermaid. She bears close observation\u2014not that way\u2014though we have no real business mixing in here. I got the distinct impression he wanted to mix.<\/p>\n

Not in the manner you have in mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with mixing business with pleasure? She was. . .<\/p>\n

Yes. She was. And what else?<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! She\u2019s a client now. A paying client.\u201d<\/p>\n

And it is quite obvious why. Amaze me sometime, Garrett. Think with your brain instead of your glands. Just once. Astonish your friends and confound your enemies.<\/p>\n

I considered sulking. I considered mentioning the fact that I hadn\u2019t broken a sweat over Winger\u2014though even that wouldn\u2019t have been a definitive truth. Winger\u2019s only distracting feature was her size. \u201cHell. You\u2019re just being sour grapes because you can\u2019t anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

Which was near enough the truth that he changed the subject. How do you propose finding the book she wants? With no more information than you cozened out of her? You are such a clever interrogator.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow was I to know you\u2019d gone feeble?\u201d<\/p>\n

You have to learn to carry yourself, Garrett. I cannot do it all for you. Rather than start a quarrel, I suggest you try to overtake Mr. Tharpe and engage him to watch the woman.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about the book she wants? It has to be the book we heard about before. What about it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Nothing about it. A book of shadows, a book of dreams, you tell me. Something mystical, presumably. But the concept is unfamiliar. Knowing what that book is might well illuminate everything else. She suggested a great many dwarves were associated with the woman she called the Serpent. That is unusual. Even unlikely, I would suspect. Perhaps you should visit the local enclave and see if anyone can elucidate. I believe the dwarf Gnorst, the son of Gnorst of Gnorst, is still canton praetor. Yes. By all means. Go see him. Invoke my name. He owes me a favor.<\/p>\n

The old bag of bones was getting going. He was more interested than I was. But he s a sucker for a puzzle.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Old Bones. Not even a dwarf gets stuck with a name like a hay-fever attack. Does he? And how can he owe you one? I\u2019ve never seen any dwarves around here.\u201d<\/p>\n

They are long-lived, Garrett. They have excellent memories and a delicate sense for the proprieties of balance.<\/p>\n

That was supposed to put me in my place. Water off a duck, man. Us short-lifers don\u2019t have time to worry about gaffes.<\/p>\n

Once you visit the dwarves, you might enlist Mr. Dotes. If Mr. Tharpe learns nothing useful, and the Squirrel person likewise, you might begin researching the woman\u2019s story, detail by detail. Heraldry and peerage experts should know this baron and his stronghold. Traders and travelers who visit the region might cast light on events there.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo teach Grandma to suck eggs. You\u2019re on my turf now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I am? I am talking legwork here, Garrett. Remember that facet of this business to which you are allergic?<\/p>\n

A base canard. The sour grapes of a guy who hasn\u2019t gotten out of his chair for four hundred years. Though it is easier just to stir the pot and see what floats to the top. \u201cGuess I\u2019ll see if Dean will hang around. If he\u2019ll stay late, I\u2019ll head for Dwarf Fort.\u201d<\/p>\n

I went to the kitchen. hoisted me a brew. Of course Dean would stay over. Now that things were happening I couldn\u2019t run him off. Tinnie was one of his favorite people. He wanted to see somebody get hurt for hurting her \u201cSo hold the fort,\u201d I told him. \u201cHis Nibs has me off to the realm of the short and surly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be out too late I\u2019m making deep-dish apple cobbler. Better when it isn\u2019t reheated.\u201d<\/p>\n

Surprise, surprise. That old boy knows how to take my mind off my troubles. One more talent and I\u2019d marry him.<\/p>\n

I trotted up to my special closet and dressed myself for the street, then headed out. Not for the first time I didn\u2019t have the foggiest notion what the hell I was doing. Or maybe it was the first time and it just hadn\u2019t ever stopped.<\/p>\n

11<\/h1>\n

The Dead Man had suggested a stop, coming back, at the Joy House, owned and operated by one Morley Dotes, friend of mine, professional vegetarian, assassin, and elfhuman breed. I gave it a think and decided to skip it. Morley is handy when the going gets rough, but he has his liabilities. Most of them are female. No sense bringing him in where he\u2019d face so much temptation. Besides, not having him in meant the odds were better for me.<\/p>\n

The Joy House. Some dumb name for a restaurant with a menu fit only for livestock. How about the Manger, Morley? How about the Barn? Or the Stable? Though that kind of smacked of upscale chic.<\/p>\n

What people call Dwarf Fort or Dwarf House sits on four square blocks behind the levee in Child\u2019s Landing. The Landing abuts the river north of the Bight, where the big water swings sharply southwest and the wharves and docks start and go on for miles, all the way to the wall. Legend says the Landing was settled when humans first came into the region. First there was a fort, then a village that grew because it lay near the confluence of three major rivers. Then there were more fortifications and a growth of industry during the Face Wars, when human insecurities compelled our ancestors to prove they could kick ass on the older races.<\/p>\n

The Face Wars were a Ion? time ago. Things have come full circle. Now the Landing is occupied by nonhumans come to grab at the wealth floating around because of Karenta\u2019s endless war with Venageta.<\/p>\n

I can always work up a case of indignation about the war and its spin-offs. One is, the nonhumans are picking our pockets. Our overlords are cheering them on. Someday they\u2019ll be picking our bones.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s not racist, either. I get along with everybody but ratmen. Our rulers, in their wisdom, in their infallible opportunism, made treaties with these other races that shield them from military service even if they\u2019ve lived as Karentines for ten generations. They gobble the privileges and don\u2019t pay the price. They\u2019re getting fat making the weapons carried by youths who couldn\u2019t be conscripted if the nonhumans weren\u2019t there to replace them in the economy.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re human and male, you\u2019ll do five years in service. Nowadays, with the Cantard in the hands of Glory Mooncalled and his mercenaries and native allies, they\u2019re talking about making that six years. Meaning even fewer survivors coming home.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m bitter. I admit it. I survived my five and made it home, but I was the first of my family to do so. And nobody thanked me for my trouble when I got back.<\/p>\n

Hell with it.<\/p>\n

Dwarf House covers four blocks. A north-south street cuts through the middle. A canal spur runs through east to west. Rumor says the blocks are connected by tunnels. Maybe. They\u2019re connected by bridges four stories up. Make that four human stories. Dwarves are dwarves. There would be more floors.<\/p>\n

The buildings have no outside windows and few doors. Humans seldom get inside, I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was if they let me in and didn\u2019t want me out, I was sunk. Not even my pal the King would come rescue me. Dwarf House enjoys virtual extraterritoriality.<\/p>\n

I looked the place over before I knocked. I didn\u2019t like what I saw. I knocked anyway. Somebody has to do these things. Generally somebody too dim not to back off.<\/p>\n

I knocked again after a reasonable wait. They weren\u2019t in any hurry in there.<\/p>\n

I knocked a third time.<\/p>\n

The door swung inward. \u201cAll right! All right! You don\u2019t have to break it down. I heard you the first time.\u201d The hairy runt in red and green was probably six hundred years old and had been assigned to the door because of his winning personality.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Garrett. The Dead Man sent me to talk to Gnorst Gnorst.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cImpossible. Gnorst is a busy dwarf. He doesn\u2019t have time to entertain every Tall One who wanders past. Go away.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t move except to insert a foot into the doorway. The dwarf scowled. I guess. He wasn\u2019t much more than eyes inside a beard big enough to hide stork\u2019s nests. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGnorst. He owes the Dead Man.\u201d<\/p>\n

The dwarf sighed. What might have been a conciliatory smile stirred the brush on his face. He grunted and made noises that would be considered rude at the dinner table. \u201cI\u2019ll inform the Gnorst.\u201d Bam! He slammed the door. I barely saved my foot. Then I snickered. These characters had to get a little more imaginative. I mean, Gnorst Gnorst, son of Gnorst, the Gnorst of Gnorst? Hell. I guess they don\u2019t have much trouble remembering who\u2019s related to who. If Gnorst lost his voice, he could answer most personal questions by blowing his nose.<\/p>\n

I bet it makes perfect sense to dwarves.<\/p>\n

The hair ball was back in five minutes. Probably record time for him. \u201cCome in. Come in.\u201d Either the Dead Man\u2019s name was magic or they were short on chow for their pet rats. I hoped the character with the imaginative name was impressed with my credential. \u201cFollow me, sir. Follow me. Mind your head, sir. There\u2019ll be low ceilings.\u201d<\/p>\n

The door dwarf did me the added courtesy of lighting a torch off a lamp that yielded a light so feeble it would have done me no good at all. He gave me a look that said this was first-class treatment, properly reserved for visiting royalty.<\/p>\n

Dwarf House inside was all gloom and smell, like tenements where families crowd in four to the flat. Only more so. Ventilation was nonexistent.<\/p>\n

We trudged up stairs. We went down stairs. I stooped a lot as we marched through workshops where dwarves by the platoon worked on as many projects as there were dwarves working The lighting was uniformly abysmal, but my guide\u2019s torch added enough to reveal that these were all proud craftsmen. Each dwarf\u2019s product was the best he could fashion. Which would make that item the best of its kind Dagger, shield, plate armor, clock, or clockwork toy, each was a work of art. Each was unique. Each artisan was a master.<\/p>\n

My lower back was gnawing at me before we were halfway where we were going. I breathed through my mouth because of the smell I hoped nobody took offense. The racket was incredible. Those dwarves banged and clanged and scraped and squeaked like crazy, all for the sake of maintaining an image as industrious little buggers. I bet they started loafing the second I was out of sight.<\/p>\n

12<\/h1>\n

The dwarf with the silly name didn\u2019t look silly. Mostly he looked hairy. I assumed a beard was an emblem of status. He was two beady black eyes peeking out of gray brush. I couldn\u2019t tell what he was wearing behind all the foliage. He did have a standard-issue sort of dwarf\u2019s hat perched on top, complete with pheasant tail feather.<\/p>\n

Gnorst of the many Gnorsts met me in a shaded garden on top of one of the buildings. Very stylized and arty, that garden, with white marble gravel paths, teensy trees, little wooden bridges over fish ponds. The works, all in a style usually associated with high elves.<\/p>\n

I rubbed the small of my back and gawked. Gnorst said, \u201cAn affectation of mine, Mr. Garrett. My tastes are very undwarflsh. My worldly successes allow me to indulge my peculiarities.\u201d This before the introductions and amenities.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s restful,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m surprised to see it atop a building.\u201d<\/p>\n

My guide faded away. Another hairball brought refreshments. The goodies included beer. Maybe they\u2019d heard of me. I took a long drink. \u201cYou all make beer like you do everything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t that good but I had to be diplomatic. Gnorst was pleased. Maybe he\u2019d had some hand in its brewing.<\/p>\n

Dwarves shun alcohol and drugs, so wouldn\u2019t have any real standard by which to judge the product.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish I had time for a relaxed chat, Mr. Garrett. I\u2019d love to catch up on the adventures of my old friend, your partner.\u201d<\/p>\n

My partner?\u201d Maybe he is but I don\u2019t go around admitting it in public. I laughed. \u201cI\u2019ll forget you said that. I don\u2019t want to give him ideas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo be sure. He\u2019s stubborn at times. I\u2019ll drop in someday. It\u2019s been too long Meanwhile, indulge my impatience. I\u2019m pressed\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. I\u2019m in a hurry myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat brought you, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Dead Man\u2019s idea, A friend of mine was knifed yesterday. The gang that did it were mostly dwarves.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gnorst popped up. \u201cDwarves! Involved in a killing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAttempted killing So far \u201c I explained<\/p>\n

\u201cStrange. Very strange.\u201d But he relaxed visibly, like maybe he\u2019d concluded his own bunch couldn\u2019t he responsible. \u201cI don\u2019t see how I can help you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Dead Man hoped you could give me a line on those guys. The dwarf community is pretty tight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis one is. But there are dwarves who aren\u2019t part of this enterprise. Still . . The behavior isn\u2019t to be countenanced. It aggravates prejudice. That\u2019s bad for business. I\u2019ll quiz my people. Someone may know those dwarves\u2014 though I hope not. A dwarf gone bad is a bad dwarf indeed<\/p>\n

That sounded like a proverb. I told him, \u201cThanks for your time. I didn\u2019t think it would help One more thing. You ever heard of something called a book of shadows? Or a book of dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n

He jumped like somebody goosed him with a hot poker He stared at me a whole minute. I exaggerate not. Then he squeaked, \u201cA book of dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA woman came to the house before I came over here. She looked a lot like my friend who got stabbed. I think she was the intended victim. She wanted to hire me. Gave me a long story about a witch called the Serpent and a book of dreams that got stolen from her and is supposed to be in TunFaire now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me, Mr. Garrett \u201c Gnorst scuttled off, mumbled at the guy who\u2019d brought the beer. He stomped back over. \u201cI just canceled some appointments. You have more time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ring a bell or something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA gong. A carillon. I guess you\u2019re unfamiliar with early dwarf history.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEverybody else\u2019s, too. What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve recalled an ancient terror.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you\u2019d better explain.\u201d Before I got dizzy.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Book of Dreams, more often called the Book of Shadows, is infamous in dwarfish legend. It must be unimaginably ancient to you. It dates from before men walked the earth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yesterday\u2019s breakfast is unimaginably ancient to me most of the time, but I didn\u2019t say so. I didn\u2019t want to seem shallower than I am. Wipe off that sneer.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn those days dwarfish sorcerers were quite powerful, Mr. Garrett. And some were quite dark. The most powerful and darkest was Nooney Krombach, who created the Book of Shadows.\u201d<\/p>\n

Praise me, I kept a straight face. Nooney Krombach. I reminded myself that they probably find our names just as quaint. \u201cNooney Krombach?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Quite possibly fanciful, of course. Like so many saints in human mythologies. But he doesn\u2019t have to have existed to have influenced his future.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand.\u201d I did, because just a few months ago I\u2019d survived a case involving several of TunFaire\u2019s religions. This city is cursed with a thousand cults.<\/p>\n

\u201cKrombach\u2019s legend has led thousands of would-be masters of the world to attempt to create their own Book of Shadows.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was fine by me but didn\u2019t make anything clearer. \u201c\\What was it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA book of magic. One hundred sheets of brass hammered paper thin, bound in tooled mammoth leather, every page bearing a spell of immense potency. And every spell created and set down with our dwarfish passion for perfection.\u201d<\/p>\n

I began to see why people were after this book. But not why they were after me. I didn\u2019t have any grimoires lying around the house. Gnorst mistook my frown for puzzlement.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese spells are very specialized, Mr. Garrett. Each enchantment, one to the page, properly employed, will allow the book\u2019s user to assume a different form and character. In other words, the book\u2019s user is able to assume any of a hundred guises by turning to the proper page and reading aloud. He is able to become any of a hundred people\u2014or whatever creature might be inscribed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d I wasn\u2019t being dumb. But that was a big load. My imagination grabbed the idea and darted around. I gulped. \u201cYou saying this Serpent had the Book of Dreams and somebody stole it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Book of Shadows was destroyed, at great cost to the ancients. The characters it contained were all wicked. If your visitor told the truth, the witch she mentioned was trying to create her own book of shadows. What could she have possibly offered them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho?\u201d I was having trouble keeping up<\/p>\n

\u201cThose dwarves. The ones you encountered. It isn\u2019t possible to create a book of shadows without dwarfish craftsmen. But no sane dwarf would lend himself to an evil of that magnitude. . . . But you don\u2019t care about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did and I didn\u2019t. I was way out at sea, without a rudder, taking waves and wind on the beam.<\/p>\n

Troubled, Gnorst started pacing. He looked like a hairy egg on stubby legs, wobbling. \u201cThis is bad, Mr. Garrett. This is very bad.\u201d He repeated himself several times. I didn\u2019t say anything back because I figured I\u2019d said everything I had to say. \u201cThis is awful. This is grotesque. This is terrible.\u201d I\u2019d started to get the idea he thought this wasn\u2019t good. He spun on me. \u201cShe said the book is here, this woman? Here in TunFaire?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said she thought it was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have to find it and destroy it before it can be put to use. Did she say it was complete?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said it was taken. Stolen by a character named Holme Blame. That\u2019s all. She didn\u2019t go into details. She just wanted to hire me to find it<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t. Don\u2019t go near the thing. An evil that great Let us handle it. No human is pure enough of heart to resist.\u201d He wasn\u2019t talking to me anymore. He went on not talking to me. \u201cThis will ruin me. My production schedule will go to hell. But I have no choice.\u201d He remembered me, whirled. \u201cYou\u2019re a cruel man, Mr. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve made it impossible for us to get any work done while this monstrosity is loose. Our entire industry may collapse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Right after the moon fell into the sea. He was overreacting. \u201cI don\u2019t get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cImagine yourself to be deeply evil. Then imagine yourself with the power to become any of a hundred other people, each designed to your specification. One might be a super assassin. Another might be a master thief. One might be . . . anything. A werewolf. You see what I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Yeah.\u201d I\u2019d begun to catch on but not clearly enough. The possibilities I\u2019d imagined originally had been much too picayune.<\/p>\n

\u201cArmed with a completed book, that witch would be almost invincible. And as long as she lived in the Book of Shadows, she\u2019d be immortal. If you killed the persona she was wearing, she\u2019d still have ninety-nine lives. If she prepared properly. Plus her own. And she\u2019d only be vulnerable in her natural form. Which she would avoid assuming because she would be vulnerable.\u201d<\/p>\n

I got it. Sort of. It didn\u2019t make a lot of sense the way be said it, but nothing much about sorcery does, to me. \u201cWe\u2019ve got big trouble, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe biggest if the book is complete. I doubt that it can be, though. But even incomplete, it\u2019s a powerful tool. And almost anyone who knew what it was could use it\u2014if she was foolish enough to write it in a language someone else could read. You wouldn\u2019t have to be a sorcerer. You\u2019d just look up the page for sorcerer if that\u2019s what you wanted to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about it. Hard. The more I thought, the more possibilities I saw and the less I liked this book. It sounded like a triple shot of Black Plague. \u201cYou think there\u2019s a chance it really exists? That it isn\u2019t just somebody\u2019s fancy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething exists that people are willing to kill for. But it just can\u2019t be complete.\u201d He sounded like he was whistling in the dark. \u201cElse the thief wouldn\u2019t have gotten to it. But it would be dangerous in any state. It has to be destroyed, Mr. Garrett. Please go straight to the Dead Man. Urge him to exercise his entire intellect. My people will do everything within their power.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tinnie\u2019s place in the mess was fading fast. The stakes seemed huge. I should\u2019ve known it couldn\u2019t stay simple. My life never does. \u201cLet me know if you come up with anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gnorst nodded. He had given me more time and information than either of us had planned. Now he seemed anxious to see me go. I said, \u201cWe ought to excuse ourselves and attack our respective tasks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed. My life has been complicated no end.\u201d He signalled. The old boy from the front door popped out of nowhere. He took me back the way we had come. Somebody scampered ahead to warn all the dwarves. They were all hard at work when I passed by.<\/p>\n

Nobody is that industrious all the time.<\/p>\n

13<\/h1>\n

I slipped out into the afternoon, leaned against the wall a dozen feet from Dwarf House\u2019s door, pondered my place in this exploding puzzle. The Book of Shadows. A real nasty. Did I have a moral obligation here? Gnorst and his gang knew how to handle it.<\/p>\n

I understood the danger better by the minute. I was tempted by the book and didn\u2019t yet know how it could be useful to me. Pretty easy to see why Gnorst was scared of it.<\/p>\n

If I stayed involved, I was going to have to cover my behind. There were some rough players out there. I didn\u2019t know them, but they knew me. Maybe it was time to drop by the Joy House, see if Morley had anything cooking.<\/p>\n

I started toward his place, not hurrying, still trying to figure angles.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t get there.<\/p>\n

There was a whole gang of them but they were dwarves, SO I had the reach. And for once in my young life I\u2019d had the sense to go out dressed. I dented three heads and chucked one dwarf through a window. The owner came out and cussed and howled and threatened and kicked a dwarf I knocked down. Nobody paid him any attention. The rest of us were having too good a time.<\/p>\n

I started out not really trying to hurt anybody. I just wanted to fend them off and get away. But they were playing for keeps. I decided I\u2019d better argue more convincingly. My stick wasn\u2019t getting the message across.<\/p>\n

Somebody whapped me up side the head with a house. It had to be a house. Nobody dwarf size could hit that hard. The lights went out.<\/p>\n

Usually I come around slowly after I\u2019ve been sapped. Not that I have a lot of experience with that. This time I wasn\u2019t slow, maybe because I was so excited about finding myself still alive, if a little run down.<\/p>\n

I was bouncing along facedown. Cobblestones slid past inches from my nose. The hairy runts were taking me somewhere rolled into a wet blanket. They were skulking along through an alley. Maybe they wanted us to party some before they let me swim the river with rocks tied to my ankles.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t like the situation. Naturally, Would you? But there wasn\u2019t a whole lot I could do about it. I couldn\u2019t even yell. My throat felt like I\u2019d tried to swallow cactus.<\/p>\n

However.<\/p>\n

The dwarves stopped. They chattered gutturally. I strained, lifted my head, looked around. My temples throbbed. I saw red. When my eyes cleared, I saw a man blocking the alleyway ahead. He was alone and there were eight dwarves around me, but the numbers didn\u2019t bother him.<\/p>\n

His name was Sadler. He was one of Chodo Contague\u2019s top boys, pure death on the hoof. The dwarves chattered some more. Someone was behind us, too. I couldn\u2019t twist around enough to see him, but I could guess. Where Sadler went Crask was sure to follow. And vice versa.<\/p>\n

Those two are hard to describe. They\u2019re big men, have no consciences, will cut a throat with no more thought than stomping a bug. Maybe less. And you can read that in their eyes. They\u2019re scary. They probably eat lye for breakfast.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cPut him down.\u201d His voice was cold and creepy.<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cAnd get out of here.\u201d His voice was so much like Sadler\u2019s, people had trouble telling them apart.<\/p>\n

The dwarves put me down, all right, but they didn\u2019t get out of there. Which made it sure they were from out of town. They might be thugs, but any thugs native to TunFaire wouldn\u2019t have argued for an instant. Nobody in his right mind bucks Chodo without he has an army behind him.<\/p>\n

Sadler and Crask were efficient and ruthless and not even a little sporting. They didn\u2019t argue, they didn\u2019t negotiate, they didn\u2019t talk. They killed dwarves till the survivors decided to get the hell out of there. The two didn\u2019t chase anybody. They had what they had come for, which was one broken-down confidential agent named Garrett.<\/p>\n

Crask grabbed the edge of the blanket and gave me a spin. Sadler said, \u201cYou\u2019re keeping weird company, Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWasn\u2019t my idea. Good thing you guys happened along.\u201d Which I said knowing they hadn\u2019t happened along at all. They probably wouldn\u2019t have lifted a finger if they hadn\u2019t been sent.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you won\u2019t think so.\u201d That was Crask. \u201cChodo wants we should ask you a question.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you find me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour man told us you went to Dwarf House.\u201d Dean would. Even with the Dead Man watching over him. He isn\u2019t that brave. \u201cWe saw you get knocked down. You got to learn to control that tongue, Garrett.\u201d I didn\u2019t remember saying anything but I probably did. Probably asked for it. \u201cWe don\u2019t want to lose you.\u201d That was Sadler talking. And what he was really saying was that he didn\u2019t want me to get myself smoked before the day came when Chodo decided the world would be better for my absence. Sadler looks forward to that day like it might be for the heavyweight championship of Karenta.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks anyway. Even if you didn\u2019t mean it.\u201d Crask helped me to my feet. My head whirled. And ached. It was going to ache for a long time. \u201cMaybe we\u2019re even now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler shrugged. Damn, he\u2019s a big one. Two inches taller than me, fifty pounds heavier, and not an ounce wasted on flab. He was losing a little hair. I\u2019d guess him at about forty. A real ape. A doubly scary ape because he had a brain.<\/p>\n

Crask is the other half of a set of bookends, almost like he stepped out of some mirror where Sadler was checking his chin for zits.<\/p>\n

Sadler shrugged because he wasn\u2019t going to put words into the kingpin\u2019s mouth. Chodo has the idea he owes me because a couple of my old cases helped him out in a big way. In fact, I saved his life once. I\u2019d rather not have. The world would be a better place without Chodo Contague. But the alternative had been worse.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s us guys walk,\u201d Crask said. He got on my left and supported me by the elbow. Sadler got on my right. They were going to ask some questions and I\u2019d better give some answers. Or I\u2019d be very unhappy.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s my life in a nutshell. Cheerfully skipping from frying pans to fires.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t for the life of me think why they were interested in me now, though. \u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt ain\u2019t what\u2019s up, Garrett, it\u2019s who\u2019s down. Chodo got kind of crabby when Squirrel turned up dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stopped. \u201cSquirrel? When did that happen?\u201d I nearly fell on my face because they kept on going<\/p>\n

\u201cYou tell us, Garrett That\u2019s why we\u2019re here. Chodo sent him down to help you. A favor, because he owes you. Next thing we know a city ratman finds him in an alley with his guts hanging out. He wasn\u2019t much, but Chodo considered him family,\u201d<\/p>\n

Catch that? Always Chodo, never Mr. Contague? I\u2019ve never figured it out. But I didn\u2019t have time to wonder or ask. It was time to talk \u201cA woman came to the house. Called herself Winger. Not a local. She pulled a knife on me in the office. The Dead Man froze her.\u201d I awarded myself a smirk when Crask and Sadler jumped. The only thing in the world that bothers them is the Dead Man. He\u2019s a force they can\u2019t cope with because they can\u2019t kill him. \u201cI was going to go get Morley Dotes to tag her after I pushed her out, but Squirrel turned up right then and volunteered. I told him to find out where she went and who she saw. The Dead Man said somebody named Lubbock sent her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know anybody named Lubbock?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I never saw the woman before, either. She was real country.\u201d<\/p>\n

They spread out a little. They were going to indulge me, give me the benefit of a shadow of a doubt. Maybe. Sadler asked, \u201cThis tie in with the hit on your woman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. This Winger was looking for a missing book of some kind. I don\u2019t know why she thought I had it. She didn\u2019t say and the Dead Man couldn\u2019t get it out of her. Later, though, another woman showed up. Wanted to hire me to find a guy called Holme Blaine who stole a book from her boss, who wanted the book back bad. She was a redhead Tinnie\u2019s size and age and build. Maybe somebody mistook Tinnie for her.\u201d<\/p>\n

They thought. Crask said, \u201cIt don\u2019t add, Garrett.\u201d Accusing me of holding out.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamned straight it don\u2019t. It might start to if! can find this Holme Blaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

They grunted. They\u2019ve spent too much time around each other. They\u2019re like those married couples that get more and more alike as time goes by. Crask asked, \u201cWhy visit the dwarves?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019re dwarves in the thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo shit. Your pals back there. You smartmouth somebody in Dwarf Fort?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDifferent gang. From out of town.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFigured that.\u201d They\u2019re that confident of their reputation. Sadler asked, \u201cHow do you get into these weird things, Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I knew, I wouldn\u2019t get into them anymore. It just sneaks up on me. You going to show me where Squirrel bought it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was doing something right. We were on the street now. In view of witnesses. I was a little less nervous. Not that those two would scruple against icing me in front of the whole world at high noon if they thought the time was right. Half the unresolved killings in TunFaire can be pinned on the kingpin\u2019s boys. I don\u2019t see anybody rounding them up for it.<\/p>\n

Chodos secret of success is he don\u2019t muscle in on our overlords\u2019 rackets. He works his own end of the social scale. He\u2019s much more at peril from his own than from the vagaries of law or state.<\/p>\n

Equal Justice for all As long as you make it yourself.<\/p>\n

They had me glad I\u2019d done some running by the time we got to Squirrel. It was a hike and a half, all the way to the skirts of the Hill, where our masters have raised their fastnesses upon the heights. I knew our trek was at an end when we reached a block where a few hardcases loafed around, holding up walls, and the street was otherwise empty.<\/p>\n

Squirrel had gone to Ins reward in an alley that ran downhill steeply We entered from the high end. Sadler told me, \u201cHe got it here,\u201d about fifteen feet into the shadows. It would have been light there only briefly, around noon \u201cYou can\u2019t tell \u2018cause of the light, but there\u2019s blood all over He ended up down there about fifty feet. Probably tried to run after it was too late. Come on.\u201d<\/p>\n

The body lay ten feet from the bottom end of the alley. Somebody with a sharp blade and strong, probably using a downward stroke, had sliced him from his right ear down the side of his throat and chest all the way to his bellybutton Bone deep. \u201cLast time I saw a wound like that was when I was in the Corps.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Crask said. \u201cTwo-handed dueling saber?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler demurred. \u201cCouldn\u2019t get away with lugging one around I say Just sharpness and strength.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crask squatted. \u201cCould be. But how do you get that close to hit that hard with a legal knife?\u201d<\/p>\n

They meandered off into a technical discussion. Crafts men of murder talking shop. I squatted to give Squirrel a closer look.<\/p>\n

Some of us never get used to violent death. I saw plenty in the Marines and didn\u2019t get numb I\u2019ve seen more than enough since. I still don\u2019t have calluses where Crask and Sadler have them. Maybe it\u2019s hereditary. Squirrel probably earned what he\u2019d gotten, but I mourned him all the same. I noted, \u201cHe wasn\u2019t robbed or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was plain hit,\u201d Crask said. \u201cSomebody wanted rid of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd him such a sweetheart. It\u2019s a sacrilege.\u201d<\/p>\n

If those guys have a weakness, it\u2019s lacking a sense of humor. Their idea of a joke is promising a guy to turn him loose if he can walk on water wearing lead boots. My crack didn\u2019t go over.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cChodo doesn\u2019t like it, Squirrel getting offed. He wasn\u2019t much good but he was family. Chodo wants to know who and why.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou guys using carrier pigeons now?\u201d Chodo lives way the hell and gone out in the sticks, north of town. There shouldn\u2019t have been time for all the back and forth implied here.<\/p>\n

They ignored me. They get that way about trade secrets\u2014or anything they don\u2019t think I need to know. Crask said, \u201cYou get anything here we don\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head. All I could tell was that Squirrel wouldn\u2019t be doing much dancing anymore.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cBet the iceman used both hands. You\u2019d get more on it that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crask told me, \u201cWe\u2019re going to keep an eye on you, Garrett. Something don\u2019t add up here. Maybe you didn\u2019t tell us everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hell, no, I hadn\u2019t. Some things Chodo doesn\u2019t need to know. I shrugged. \u201cI find out who did it, you\u2019ll be the first to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it to heart, Garrett. Take it to bed with you. Get up with it in the morning. Chodo is pissed. Somebody is going to pay.\u201d He turned to Sadler and started in on whether the killer had cut upward or downward. Ignoring me. I\u2019d been dismissed. Warned and dismissed. Chodo owed me, but not the life of one of his men. Maybe I was nearer even with him than I\u2019d thought.<\/p>\n

I checked Squirrel again, but he still wasn\u2019t sharing any secrets. So I got out of there.<\/p>\n

Heading home, I saw something I\u2019d never seen in TunFaire before, a centaur family trotting down the street<\/p>\n

The fighting in the Cantard must have gone berserk if the natives were fleeing it, too. I\u2019d never heard of centaurs ranging this far north.<\/p>\n

Things must be going real bad for Glory Mooncalled and his hatchling Cantard republic. He\u2019d be gone soon and the world could get back to normal, with Karentine killing Venageti in the never-ending contest for control of the mines.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d have to mention the centaurs to the Dead Man. Glory Mooncalled is his hobby. The mercenary turned self-crowned prince has lasted longer than even my career houseguest expected.<\/p>\n

14<\/h1>\n

While walking home, I noticed that, though it was still too early for morCartha high jinks, there were plenty of fliers aloft. Like every fairy and pixie in the known universe, with a random sample of other breeds. I nearly trampled a band of gnomes while gawking at the aerobatics. The gnomes yowled and cursed and threatened mayhem upon my shinbones. The tallest didn\u2019t reach my kneecap. They were feisty little buggers.<\/p>\n

I stood and gawked while they stomped off, cocky because they\u2019d intimidated one of the big people. I didn\u2019t get around to cussing back because I was numb. You don\u2019t often see gnomes. Not in town. They look kind of like miniature dwarves who sometimes find time to shave. \u201cWhat next?\u201d I muttered, and \u201cNever mind! I don\u2019t want to find out.\u201d Just in case my guardian angel was going to grant my every wish.<\/p>\n

I reported to the Dead Man. He seemed more interested in the gnomes and centaurs than in what had happened to me. I held my tongue while he mulled. what I\u2019d gotten from his pal Gnorst, then digested the news about Squirrel. Then he queried, Why do you not want the killer to have been the woman Winger?<\/p>\n

\u201cI liked her. In an off-the-wall sort of way. She had balls that drag the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n

You get your priorities scrambled. You mentioned her name to Mr. Crask and Mr. Sadler.<\/p>\n

\u201cI did indeed. I wasn\u2019t thinking clearly at the time. A mistake, but with some justification.\u201d They would find her and ask her some hard questions. Unless she did the unlikely and headed for her home village fast. Like about the day before yesterday.<\/p>\n

You did not mention the book.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was playing with pain. I managed to think a little. I thought I should keep something to myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wise decision. If for the wrong reason. Consider the power of the book, then consider that in the hands of Chodo Contague.<\/p>\n

I did. And maybe had before, unconsciously. \u201cNot a good plan.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not for anyone but Chodo Contague. A fancy keeps floating through your mind. It may not be as difficult as you think.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d He\u2019d blindsided me again.<\/p>\n

To find an eyewitness to the Squirrel person\u2019s demise.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re kidding. Chodo\u2019s in it. People are going to sew their lips together.\u201d<\/p>\n

He does not intimidate everyone.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou weren\u2019t there, 0 Fearless One. Everybody that he don\u2019t intimidate is buried. Or soon will be.\u201d<\/p>\n

You noted considerable aerial activity out there. How often do fairies and pixies catch your attention? More often than children and pets? Generally such remain part of the background unless they force themselves upon you. And in that you are not unique. The Squirrel person\u2019s killer probably was careful about witnesses, but did not think to check the air above.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s an idea. One of your more outrageous ones, but an idea. How am I supposed to con some witness into talking?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pass word to the fairy and pixie communities saying you will pay for information about what happened in that alley. Those people are not afraid of Chodo Contague. In fact, they hate him. They would not help him. If he has a similar notion, they will thumb their noses at his men. They can fly faster than his thugs can run.<\/p>\n

Legwork again. He was coming up with these things just to get more hoofing around town.<\/p>\n

Still, it might be worth a shot. If I could get the message across. It\u2019s hard to communicate with those people. They speak Karentine but somehow it isn\u2019t at-ways the same language I speak. You have to be careful what you say and precise in how you say it. No ambiguities. No words or phrases that can be understood in more than one way. You do and ninety-nine times in a hundred they\u2019ll take you the wrong way. I think they do it on purpose, to give us a hard time.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d never thought much about it, but there are peoples with little to fear from Chodo. It might behoove me to find friends among them. Sure as the sun will rise in the east, there\u2019ll come a day when Chodo and I go head-to-head; I don\u2019t want that day to come and I expect he doesn\u2019t, either, but we both know our natures make it inevitable.<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cCrask and Sadler got me spooked.\u201d<\/p>\n

They did more good than harm.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard that. Those dwarves weren\u2019t taking me to a party.\u201d<\/p>\n

Time to consider taking on backup.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d He was being awful practical. \u201cI wanted to keep the little leaf-eater out of it but I\u2019m really not at my best when the odds are eight to one.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sensed faint amusement over there. There are other possibilities. The groll brothers, Doris and Marsha, make effective bodyguards.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey also tend to stick out in a crowd.\u201d Grolls being part giant, part troll, and the brothers in question being twenty feet tall and green. And they don\u2019t speak Karentine. The only man I know who speaks grollish is Morley Dotes. I\u2019d have to enlist him anyway. \u201cWhy don\u2019t I sleep on it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Because if you sleep now, you may waste the chance to enjoy sleeping a few thousand times more. It is not legwork that is going to kill you, Garrett. It is lack of legwork.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho walked twenty miles today? And who stayed home contemplating his own genius?\u201d<\/p>\n

I pondered the mystery of Glory Mooncalled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019ll help us out.\u201d How old Chuckles preens and crows when he guesses right what the mercenary will do next. And how he cringes and whines when that sumbitch surprises him.<\/p>\n

I hate to admit it, but I kind of long for the old days last year when Mooncalled was on our side and just gave the Venageti fits and made our generals look like simpletons.<\/p>\n

Maybe I should worry more. Mooncalled may be the most important man alive today. The fate of his republic will shape that of Karenta and Venageta. If the two kingdoms can\u2019t squash him and regain access to the silver mines that are the object of the ancient war, sorcerers on both sides will soon be out of business. Silver is the fuel that makes their magic go.<\/p>\n

Mooncalled\u2019s strategy is to hang on till the wizards fade. He doesn\u2019t fear our mundane generals. Most of them can\u2019t find their butts with a seeing-eye dog. They get their jobs through brilliant selection of parents, not competence. Mooncalled may not be a genius, but he can find his butt with either hand, in the dark, which is plenty good enough when dealing with Karentine generals or Venageti Warlords.<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cI take it you think something is about to happen down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Perhaps. And the news may be less than favorable to those who find hope in Mooncalled\u2019s mutiny. Both Karenta and Venageta have kept the pressure on but have not run blind into his traps. His native support appears to be dwindling. You mentioned spotting a centaur family today. A few months ago centaurs were Mooncalled\u2019s most devoted allies, vowing to fight till they were extinct if that was the price of ending foreign domination of the Cantard.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t thought about the political implications of a centaur presence here. Did it mean negotiations for a sellout? Usually I turn a deaf ear to such speculation. I have the romantic, silly idea that if I ignore politics steadfastly, maybe politicians will ignore me. You\u2019d think I\u2019d have learned after having spent five years helping kill people on behalf of politicians.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t tell anybody on the Hill, but I\u2014like almost everybody who doesn\u2019t live up there\u2014have rooted for Glory Mooncalled in my secret heart. If he actually manages the impossible and hangs on, he\u2019ll break the backs of the ruling classes of both of the world\u2019s greatest kingdoms. In Karenta\u2019s case that could mean the collapse of the state and either the return of the imperials from exile or evolution into something entirely new and unique, built upon a mixture of races.<\/p>\n

Enough. Whatever happens on the Hill, or in the Cantard, it won\u2019t change my life. There\u2019ll always be bad guys for me to chase.<\/p>\n

You had better get on your horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cYuk! Don\u2019t even mention those monsters.\u201d I hate horses. They hate me. I think there\u2019s a good chance they\u2019ll get me before the kingpin does. \u201cI\u2019m on my way.\u201d<\/p>\n

15<\/h1>\n

Morley Dotes\u2019s Joy House is only a short way from my place, but by the time you get there you wonder if you haven\u2019t fallen through a hole into another world. In my neighborhood\u2014though it\u2019s not the best\u2014the nonhumans and baddies are mostly passing through. In Morley\u2019s, the Safety Zone, they\u2019re there all the time.<\/p>\n

TunFaire is a human city, but just about every other species has an area of its own staked out. Some are a quarter unto themselves, like Ogre Town or Ratman Creek. Some occupy only one tenement. Even though individuals may live anywhere in town, somewhere there\u2019s a home turf that\u2019s fiercely defended. There\u2019s a lot of prejudice and a lot of friction and some races have a talent for that which makes our human bent toward prejudice look wimpy. Thus the Safety Zone evolved, of its own accord, as an area where the races can mix in relative peace, because business has to get done.<\/p>\n

Morley\u2019s place is right in the heart of the zone, which seems to have gelled around it. It was always a favorite hangout for baddies who mix, before the zone became an accepted idea. Morley is becoming a minor power. I\u2019ve heard he\u2019s turned into a sort of judge who arbitrates interracial disputes.<\/p>\n

Useful, but he\u2019d better not get too ambitious. Chodo might feel threatened<\/p>\n

Chodo only tolerates Morley now because he owes him. Morley spiffed his predecessor and created a job opening at the top. But Chodo remains wary, maybe even nervous. What Morley did once he might do again, and there\u2019s no more sure an assassin than Morley Dotes.<\/p>\n

Killing people is Morley\u2019s real line. The Joy House started out as cover. He never expected the place to become a success and probably didn\u2019t want it to.<\/p>\n

Thus do the fates conspire to shape our lives.<\/p>\n

It was getting on dusky, with the first morCartha out reconnoitering, as I approached Morley\u2019s place. \u201cWell,\u201d I muttered unhappily as I turned into the street that runs past the Joy House. And \u201cYeah, hello,\u201d as a couple of overdeveloped bruisers fell into step beside me. \u201cHow\u2019s the world treating you guys?\u201d<\/p>\n

Both frowned as though trying to work through a problem too difficult for either. Then Sadler materialized out of shadow and relieved them of the frightful and unaccustomed task of thinking. Sadler said, \u201cGood timing, Garrett. Chodo wants to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

They must have seen me coming. \u201cYeah. I suspected.\u201d A big black coach stood in front of Morley\u2019s. I knew it better than I liked. I\u2019d ridden in it. It belonged to that well-known philanthropist, Chodo Contague. \u201cHe\u2019s here? Chodo?\u201d He never leaves his mansion.<\/p>\n

Crask appeared, completed the set. I had me bookends who would strangle their own mothers not only without a qualm but who wouldn\u2019t recall it a day later with any more remorse than recalling stomping a roach. Bad, bad people, Crask and Sadler. I wish I didn\u2019t, but whenever I run into them I waste half my little brain worrying about how bad they are.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m glad they don\u2019t make a lot like them.<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cChodo wants to talk, Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got that impression.\u201d I kept my tongue in check. No need to mention that Sadler had told me already.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s in the coach.\u201d<\/p>\n

They couldn\u2019t have been sitting there waiting for me. That wasn\u2019t their style. They must have had business with Morley and I was just a target of opportunity.<\/p>\n

I walked to the coach, opened its door, hauled my carcass inside, settled facing the kingpin.<\/p>\n

You take your first look at Chodo, you wonder why all the fuss. Everybody\u2019s scared of this old geek? Why, he\u2019s in such lousy shape he spends his whole life in a wheelchair. He can barely hold his head up, and that not for long unless he\u2019s mad. Sometimes he can\u2019t speak clearly enough to make himself understood. His skin has no color and it seems you can see right through it. He looks like he\u2019s been dead five years already.<\/p>\n

Then he works up the strength to meet your eye and you see the beast looking out at you. I\u2019ve been there several times and still that first instant of eye contact is a shocker. The guy inside that ruined meat makes Crask and Sadler look like streetcorner do-gooders.<\/p>\n

You get in Chodo\u2019s way, you get hurt. He don\u2019t need to be a ballerina. He has Crask and Sadler. Those two are more loyal to him than ever any son was to a father. That kind of loyalty is remarkable in the underworld. I wonder what hold he has on them.<\/p>\n

He has them and a platoon of lieutenants and those have their soldiers on the street. Those have their allies and informants and tenants. Chodo flinches or frowns, somebody can die a gruesome death real sudden.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Garrett.\u201d He had the strength to incline his head. He was having a good day. Wiry wisps of white hair floated around.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Contague.\u201d I call him Mr. Contague. \u201c1 was considering coming to see you.\u201d But not very seriously. His place is too far out. It\u2019s a disgustingly tasteless mausoleum (sour grapes, Garrett?) that dwarfs the homes of most of our overlords. Crime pays. And for Chodo it pays very well indeed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you might when I heard from Dotes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thanks a bunch, Morley. There you go thinking for me again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know how a man feels in such a situation, Mr. Garrett. I once lost a woman to a rival. A man grows impatient to restore the balance. I thought I would save time if I came to the city.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huh? Didn\u2019t he know Tinnie was going to be all right? Or did he know something I didn\u2019t? That was likely, since almost everybody knows something I don\u2019t\u2014but not about Tinnie, he shouldn\u2019t. \u201cI appreciate it more than you know.\u201d He had a girl once. Funny. I\u2019d never thought of him having been anything but what he is right now.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re surprised. It\u2019s a pity you\u2019re so determined to maintain your independence.\u201d That\u2019s a problem between us. I want the world to know I\u2019m my own man. He\u2019d like to get a hold on me. He said, \u201cI admire you, Mr. Garrett. It would be interesting to sit and talk sometime about have-beens and might-have-beens. Yes. Even I was young once. Even I have been in love. I once considered getting out of this life because a woman caused me such despair. But she died. Much as yours did. I recall the pain vividly. For a time it left my soul as crippled as my flesh is now. If I can help, I will.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the first time I began to suspect there was something going on between me and Chodo that was on a level having nothing to do with antipathies and favors accidentally or knowingly done. Maybe he\u2019d glommed me as some kind of tenuous lifeline from his shadow world to one where \u201chigher\u201d standards reigned. And maybe his continued attempts to seduce or coerce me into his camp had something to do with tempering that lifeline.<\/p>\n

Whoa! Hip boots time, Garrett. \u201cSure. Thanks. Only, Tinnie didn\u2019t die, see? She was hurt, but they say she should get better. Squirrel was supposed to tell you, only…\u201d<\/p>\n

His face darkened. \u201cYes. Squirrel. Mr. Crask and Mr. Sadler told me what you said. I failed to make sense of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t, either. But the whole world is going crazy. We got morCartha fighting all night, mammoths and saber-tooth tigers roaming around, thunder-lizards maybe migrating south. Today I saw centaurs on the street and almost tromped a gang of gnomes. Nothing makes sense anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

He made a feeble gesture with one hand, a sure sign his blood was up. He seldom spends the strength. \u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a professional interest?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mama didn\u2019t raise many kids dumb enough to argue with Chodo Contague while hip-deep in Chodo\u2019s headbreakers. I gave him most of the bag. Exactly what I\u2019d given Crask and Sadler. I didn\u2019t contradict myself. The Dead Man taught me well when it comes to retaining detail. I added some speculation just to give the impression that I was making a special effort for him.<\/p>\n

He listened, relaxed, chin against chest, gathering his strength. What went on inside that strange brain? The man was a genius. Evil, but a genius. He said, \u201cIt makes no sense in terms of the information at my disposal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot to me, either.\u201d I arrowed to the key point. \u201cBut there\u2019re dwarves under arms roaming the streets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Most unusual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there a dwarfish underworld?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Every race has its hidden side, Mr. Garrett. I\u2019ve had contact with it. It\u2019s trivial by human standards. Dwarves don\u2019t gamble. They are incapable of making that mental plunge into self-delusion whereby others become convinced that they can beat the odds. They don\u2019t drink because they make fools of themselves when they\u2019re drunk and there is nothing a dwarf fears more than looking foolish, They shun weed and drugs for the same reason. There are individual exceptions, of course, but they\u2019re rare. As a breed, they have few of the usual vices. I\u2019ve never known one to become excitable enough to employ lifetakers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty dull bunch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy your standards or mine. All work, all business, very little play. But there is one game they do enjoy. One weakness. Exotic females. Any species will do, though they gravitate toward big-busted human women.\u201d<\/p>\n

So do I. I made an unnecessary crack about, well, if you\u2019ve taken a look at your average dwarf woman<\/p>\n

He shut me up with a scowl.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey can\u2019t resist, Mr. Garrett\u2014if you give them half a chance to convince themselves that they won\u2019t get found out. They can be as vulnerable as priests that way. In the area around Dwarf Fort there are half a dozen very discreet and exclusive hook shops catering to dwarves. They are quite successful enterprises.\u201d<\/p>\n

Which meant they were pouring gold into Chodo\u2019s pockets. I wondered if he was trying to tell me something. Probably not. He isn\u2019t one to talk around the edges of something\u2014unless he\u2019s handing you a gentle admonition concerning a possible catastrophic decline in the state of your health. \u201cYou make anything of the book angle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey would get excited if someone got hold of one of their books of secrets. But that can\u2019t be done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Such a flat statement. He\u2019d tried. I flashed on what the Dead Man had said. Damn, I shouldn\u2019t have gotten him thinking about books.<\/p>\n

He said, \u201cThere\u2019s no way to get enough leverage on a dwarf to make him turn over any secret. Those people are perfectly content to die first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about a thief?\u201d Maybe I could nudge this into safer channels.<\/p>\n

\u201cTheir books are too well guarded to be reached.\u201d Again that flatness. He knew whereof he spoke. \u201cThat enclave is a puzzle box, a series of fortresses going inward. You need a guide to get through it. The army, backed by every wizard off the Hill, couldn\u2019t take the place fast enough to keep them from destroying whatever they don\u2019t want to get out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was a notion. I thought it might explain what\u2019s been happening.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on is something else entirely. You tell me your young lady is alive and mending. Does that mean you\u2019re out of it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I answered honestly. \u201cI don\u2019t know where I stand. Every time I decide I don\u2019t have any stake, something happens. Those dwarves Sadler and Crask ran off<\/p>\n

They were out to get rid of me. It can\u2019t be sound business practice to let people get away with something like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me in a way that told me he knew I was holding out, but he said only, \u201cThat\u2019s true, Mr. Garrett. A first principle. Don\u2019t let anyone get away with muscling you. For the moment, let me counsel patience. Let me put my eyes out. These people have dragged me into their affairs. Someone beholden to me will know something about them. It\u2019s impossible for those people to exist in the cracks without being noticed. My people will catch some of them and ask questions. If I learn anything of interest to you, I\u2019ll inform you immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d I couldn\u2019t tell him to get out of my face, go home, I didn\u2019t need him stomping around in my life. Even if I\u2019d wanted to.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to have Mr. Sadler set up headquarters here so my people have a central reporting site.\u201d He meant the Joy House. That would thrill Morley all to hell. It would shoot the guts out of his business.<\/p>\n

Chodo read that thought in my face. He\u2019s good at reading people. \u201cMr. Dotes won\u2019t lose because of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how to thank you, Mr. Contague.\u201d I managed to keep sarcasm from creeping in. Dean and the Dead Man would have been amazed. They don\u2019t think I can do that.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t thank me. You\u2019ve done me numerous good turns. This may be my chance to pay some back. Maybe to lay a little good karma on my soul.\u201d<\/p>\n

Another surprise. That old boy is full of them. I thanked him again, climbed out of the coach. It rolled away immediately. Most of Chodo\u2019s bodyguards went with it.<\/p>\n

16<\/h1>\n

Morley\u2019s place was deserted. I stepped into half the usual light and none of the usual uproar. I looked across the desert at Puddle, behind the serving counter, polishing glassware. \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot open tonight, buddy. Come back some other time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! It\u2019s me. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

He squinted. Maybe his eyes weren\u2019t so good anymore. He was going to flab fast, but that didn\u2019t keep him from being a bad man. \u201cOh. Yeah. Maybe I ought to say we\u2019re double not open for you, pal. But it\u2019s too late. You done got Morley dragged in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is everybody?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMorley shut the place down. You think anybody\u2019s going to come in here with that circus parked out front?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope.\u201d He didn\u2019t volunteer any information. Most of Morley\u2019s people think I take advantage of his good nature. They\u2019re wrong. He doesn\u2019t have a good nature. And he owes me for a couple stunts he pulled on me back when he was hooked on gambling and he had to cut things fine to keep from taking that long swim in the river. \u201cWhat you want him for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d His tone said I was full of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe leave any word for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Have a beer. Hang in there till he gets back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBeer?\u201d Morley never has anything drinkable around except a little brandy upstairs for special guests of the female persuasion. The kind that always scurry for cover when I show up, afraid I work for their husbands.<\/p>\n

Puddle swung a pony keg onto the bar, grabbed the biggest mug he had, drew me one. I arrived as he topped it off. I noted that the keg had been tapped already. I noted that Puddle had brew breath. I grinned. Another of Morley\u2019s bunch who didn\u2019t share his boss\u2019s religion. Puddle pretended he didn\u2019t know why I was showing my teeth<\/p>\n

\u201cSeen Saucerhead?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope<\/p>\n

\u201cMorley supposed to be back soon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnow where he went?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head, Probably afraid he was going to get a sore throat with all this yammer. A real heavyweight conversationalist, Puddle. Always ready with a lightning riposte. Rather than subject myself to any more abuse, I went to work on my beer.<\/p>\n

It went down smooth. Almost too smooth. I let him draw me another and finished half before I thought about all I\u2019d put away already today. Where was the point of the running if I was going to fix myself up to look like Puddle anyway?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got anything back there ready to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

A big, wicked grin grew on Puddle\u2019s homely face. Before he turned toward the kitchen, I was sorry I\u2019d asked. He was about to make me pay for my sins.<\/p>\n

He came back with something cold smeared on a bed of soggy noodles. \u201cChef\u2019s surprise.\u201d It looked like death and didn\u2019t taste much better<\/p>\n

\u201cNow I know why all those breeds are so damned mean. Can\u2019t help it, eating like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Puddle chuckled, pleased with himself.<\/p>\n

I ate. To get through a mess like that, all I have to do is recall what I\u2019d had to eat as a Marine. I could dig in and feel pampered.<\/p>\n

Saucerhead ambled in. \u201cWhere you been, Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

I filled him in<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard about Squirrel. Can\u2019t figure it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the redhead?\u201d<\/p>\n

He frowned. \u201cShe went home meek. And disappeared.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cWent in the place where she stayed. Wanted to ask her a question. I looked all over. She wasn\u2019t in there no more. And I know she never come out. Only two people ever did and she wasn\u2019t one of them. And she never came back.\u201d He shrugged and forgot it. Not his problem anymore. \u201cThey tried to ice you, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed. \u201cHey. Puddle. Whup me up a double load of whatever this glop is Garrett\u2019s got.\u201d He asked me, \u201cWhere\u2019s Morley?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. Puddle ain\u2019t saying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm. Chodo\u2019s in it now. Account of Squirrel. What you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. I have a couple grudges. And like Chodo told me, letting them slide isn\u2019t good for business.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think that Winger smoked Squirrel?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. I think Chodo\u2019s going to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty pissed, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Probably hasn\u2019t had a good excuse to off somebody for days.\u201d<\/p>\n

Saucerhead drank about a quart of beer, inhaled the food Puddle brought him, shoved back, said, \u201cWell, it\u2019s been an interesting day. I got to get on home. Got a little gal waiting.\u201d Off he went.<\/p>\n

I sat quietly for a while. It got dark outside. I waited some more. I asked Puddle, \u201cYou sure Morley didn\u2019t say when he\u2019d be back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope.\u201d<\/p>\n

Puddle seemed to be the only body in the place. Where were all the help? Where was Sadler, who was supposed to set up his headquarters? Where the hell was Morley Dotes?<\/p>\n

I waited some more. Then I waited some. And when I didn\u2019t have anything else to do, I waited. Then I got up and said, \u201cI\u2019m going home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee ya.\u201d Puddle grinned me out the door. He locked it behind me in case I had a change of heart.<\/p>\n

The morCartha were zooming around, trying to undress the night. I recalled Dean saying we were going to have cobbler for dessert. I cussed. I\u2019d eaten that sludge at Morley\u2019s place and now I wouldn\u2019t have room for decent cooking.<\/p>\n

Story of my life.<\/p>\n

17<\/h1>\n

I almost made it home without getting distracted.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d just crossed Wizard\u2019s Reach. I was beginning to feel optimistic. I\u2019d decided I was going to wrap myself around another gallon of beer, then throw myself in bed and sleep till noon. The hell with running and everything else. I justified future loafing the old-fashioned way. I told me I\u2019d earned it.<\/p>\n

Somebody hissed at me from the shadows beside a neighbor\u2019s stoop.<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath, sighed, looked for signs of trouble, looked at that shadow, didn\u2019t go any closer. I couldn\u2019t make out whoever was there. Mama Garrett didn\u2019t raise many fools who lived to be thirty. I didn\u2019t go over there. \u201cCome out, come out, whoever you are. Allee allee in free.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t. They might be watching.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cToo bad.\u201d Very too bad.<\/p>\n

My mood had plunged. I didn\u2019t bother asking who might be watching.<\/p>\n

The voice sounded a tad familiar. I couldn\u2019t place it, though.<\/p>\n

I laid a hand on my belt. No headknocker. Still down somewhere near Dwarf Fort. I resumed walking, wondering if I\u2019d see that billy again. I wasn\u2019t ready to go looking. Too many dwarves down there and I can\u2019t tell one from another. I don\u2019t think they\u2019d accept a kill-them-all-and-let-the-gods-sort-them-out approach.<\/p>\n

My egg might be scrambled some but it does me just fine, thank you.<\/p>\n

The dark behind me moaned. Feet pitty-patted toward me, I eyed the house, wondered if I\u2019d have lime to get Dean\u2019s attention before somebody did something unpleasant and maybe left the old boy a mess to clean up.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the power of positive thinking there After having had my head redesigned\u2014it was throbbing and pounding\u2014I saw no dawn on any horizon Funny how one little thing can cause your mood to change so fast.<\/p>\n

I sidestepped, dropped into a crouch, and came around with a fist meant to drive right through somebody\u2019s ribs and let me get hold of his backbone from the front. Then, if I was feeling mean, I\u2019d shake him till his ears fell off<\/p>\n

I tried pulling it. I fell on my face, rearranged my nose into an even less appealing mess, and still folded the little darling up around my fist<\/p>\n

I got myself up, wobbled around a little, wiped the fuzz out of my eyes. The girl stayed down, holding herself and making strangling noises Moo, boy. What a lady-killer, Garrett. It wasn\u2019t my week for women If it kept up, it wasn\u2019t going to be my year.<\/p>\n

I felt my nose to see if anything was left. Hard to tell from here, but there seemed to he a nub under the ick. It hurt enough to be my nose. I shook some more cobwebs and knelt. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t ought to run up on a guy like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

She made noises like she was trying to heave up her stockings. I scooped her up and headed for home, caveman Garrett bringing home the goodies<\/p>\n

She felt like a real treat, curled in my arms. It was hard to tell by eyeball in the available light. Curious morCartha cruised around as I climbed the steps, kicked the door, and hollered They didn\u2019t bother me. I felt the Dead Man touch me, just to make sure it wasn\u2019t somebody trying to get past Dean disguised as a freshly slaughtered side of beef.<\/p>\n

Dean opened the door after peeking through the spyhohe. He looked at the girl. \u201cGot lucky again, eh?\u201d He stepped aside<\/p>\n

I took her into the small front room, put her down on the daybed \u201cSee what you can do while I clean up.\u201d I sketched what had happened. He gave me one of his better looks of exasperation.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou missed supper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ate out. At Morley\u2019s. Get a light in here so we can see. I\u2019ll be back in a minute.\u201d I left him and dashed upstairs faster than a wounded snail. After I washed my face and rechecked it for missing parts, I put on clean clothes and scooted downstairs and stuck my head into the Dead Man\u2019s room \u201cCompany, Smiley.\u201d<\/p>\n

I am aware of that, Garrett. Try to restrain your animal urges. She may be of some help, though I cannot get anything yet. She is too frightened and confused.<\/p>\n

\u201cRestrain myself? I\u2019m a paragon of restraint. I\u2019m the guy they invented the word for. I\u2019ve never burned the house down around you.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was one of those rare times when he didn\u2019t try to get in the last word Chalk one up in the history books. Might not happen again in my lifetime. She knows something, Garrett.<\/p>\n

Hell. Score one for him That was worse than one of his standard digs. It was tone rather than words. He was accusing me of goofing off.<\/p>\n

I stomped into the small front room.<\/p>\n

Dean was bent over the woman, blocking her from view, talking softly. I paused, looked at him with an affection I\u2019d never show to his face. He had been the luckiest find of my life. He did everything around the house that I hated, cooked like an angel, put in absurd hours, and more often than not was as emotionally involved in my cases as I was. I couldn\u2019t ask for much more but maybe a little less lip and a little more enthusiasm about keeping the Dead Man clean.<\/p>\n

If he has a failing, it\u2019s his disapproval of my work habits Dean believes in work for its own sake, as a tonic for the soul.<\/p>\n

I coughed gently to let him know I was there. He didn\u2019t hear Was he going deaf? Maybe. He had to be pushing seventy, though he wouldn\u2019t admit it.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow is she, Dean? Settled down any?\u201d<\/p>\n

He tossed a glower over his shoulder \u201cSome. No thanks to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI should let somebody run up on me and maybe change the shape of my head?\u201d I was getting irritable. Can\u2019t understand why My face hurt? My head ached? My shoulder throbbed? My legs were cramping from all the walking and running? That\u2019s no excuse I was headed for despair mode, where you keep on fighting the fight but you\u2019ve decided it isn\u2019t worth it You just can\u2019t stop<\/p>\n

Facts don\u2019t bother Dean much. He\u2019s still fifteen years old inside. He never stopped believing in the kind of magic kids carry around inside them before reality beats them down. He gave me another look at his glower. He was on a roll, He said, \u201cGive me a couple more minutes<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll go report, then,\u2019\u2019 I went and told the Dead Man about my excursion into that world where Dean\u2019s brand of magic has died<\/p>\n

He had no direct comment. Go meet the girl. Chuckle. You will be surprised.<\/p>\n

The Dead Man scores his points I was surprised.<\/p>\n

She was gorgeous. Luscious. I\u2019d had my suspicions, of course. I\u2019d carried her in and there\u2019s nothing wrong with my sense of touch. But there hadn\u2019t been light enough to reveal all that red hair.<\/p>\n

Yeah She was a ringer for the gal who\u2019d told the Baron Stonecipher story, who was a ringer for the naked gal. This one with a difference. This one had an air of innocence \u201cIt\u2019s raining redheads, Dean.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grunted. Like he didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n

She was sitting up now, no longer green around the gills. She looked at me. Green eyes. Again. Gorgeous big naive green eyes Lips like I only dream about. Freckles<\/p>\n

Down, boy.<\/p>\n

I gaped. Dean gave me the evil eye. I said, \u201cWe need a name for this case Maybe call it Too Many Redheads.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Garrett?\u201d Who! That voice! Like the last redhead\u2019s voice, but with added bells and promises whatever<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s me. Garrett Ferocious dragon fighter and unwitting stomper of damsels in distress. And that\u2019s on my good days.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked puzzled<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u00a0 <\/span>It\u2019s been a rough day.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m on edge Let\u2019s start over. I promise not to sock you it you promise not to run up behind me in the dark.\u00a0 <\/span>In the street, anyway. We could put the Dead Man to sleep and run Dean off and she could chase me all ever the house if she wanted. I wouldn\u2019t try too hard to get away In the interest of science, of course To see how closely she compared with my nudist visitor, say<\/p>\n

She smiled. The freckles on her cheeks danced.\u00a0 <\/span>That almost made my day worthwhile<\/p>\n

Almost<\/p>\n

\u201cDean explained,\u201d she said Funny how he gets on a first-name basis so fast. \u201cI should apologize. That wasn\u2019t smart. I\u2019m not used to the city.\u2019 She stood. My eyes bugged. Her movements were unpretentious and unaffected and I had to grind my teeth to keep from howling and whistling She was a natural heart-stopper. Wherever she came from, she\u2019d been wasted on them there. They\u2019d been dumb enough to let her get away. Send more of hei kind to TunFaire. Take our minds off poverty and war and despair. Talk about your bread and circuses. This gal was a three-ringer all by herself<\/p>\n

She stuck out a hand. It wasn\u2019t half as big as mine. I took it. It was a chock full of warmth and life\u2014which reminded me that Tinnie almost wasn\u2019t. That brought me back to earth. She said, \u201cI\u2019m Carla Lindo Ramada, Mr. Garrett. I came here from . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh boy \u201cHold it. Let me guess. The castle of Baron Stonecipher in the Harnadan Mountains. Where you\u2019re a chambermaid. The baron sent you after a guy named Holme Blaine who kyped a book from a witch called the Serpent.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her jaw dropped.<\/p>\n

Outside, overhead, the morCartha started up. The racket was so close and so loud it sounded like they were using my roof for landings and takeoffs I told Dean, \u201cThey\u2019re going to make themselves unpopular if they keep that up.\u201d<\/p>\n

The redhead realized her pretty little mouth was open, so she closed it, but it sagged open again. She stood there like a goldfish gulping air.<\/p>\n

I asked, \u201cWas I close\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you. . . ?\u201c<\/p>\n

I wanted to brag about what a great investigator I was. No point exaggerating, though. \u201cTake it easy. I\u2019m not a psychic.\u201d He was in the other room. \u201cYou\u2019re at least the second gorgeous redhead named Carla Ramada who turned up today. You want me to find the book, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCarla Lindo Ramada,\u201d she said. Apparently that was important. \u201cBut. . . How… ?\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d There wasn\u2019t any doubt in my mind that this wasn\u2019t the woman who had been here earlier. I was pretty sure she wasn\u2019t the naked woman, either. I couldn\u2019t tell you what it was. A subtle clue of some kind. I had only minimal reservations about her being the real Carla Lindo Ramada. She wore the name more comfortably.<\/p>\n

Her face went through the changes, all of them fetching. I was thinking the thing to do was get her Out of town before she started riots because there was only two or three of her to go around\u2014then I finally started wondering how come there were two or three. Or were there four or five? Was there a whole legion of her out there? Did redheads grow on trees in the Hamadan? Gods, get me into the forestry racket<\/p>\n

Her features settled into solid fear. \u201cIt must have been her! She must have a page in the book that\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d It sank in. \u201cThe villain of the piece came here masquerading as you?\u201d Well. Well again. And she was my client. More or less. \u201cBut how? If she doesn\u2019t have the book anymore?\u201d<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t ask how I knew what the book did. She thought about my question. \u201cFirst draft? Maybe she brought draft pages with her. You couldn\u2019t really mistake her for me, could you?\u201d<\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t that naive after all.<\/p>\n

No. I couldn\u2019t mistake her, having seen her. I thought back to that earlier visit. It wouldn\u2019t come clear. That was odd. The Dead Man has taught me to pick up details and retain them. But I found only mists where I should have had cleat, crisp recollections.<\/p>\n

\u201cDean, make us a pot of tea. I have a feeling it\u2019s going to be a long night.\u201d And who could get any rest with all that racket going on outside? I was beginning to hope they\u2019d wipe each other out. \u201cWe might as well relax before we start<\/p>\n

He gave me the hardeye like he wondered if something so sweet would he safe if lie visited the kitchen, decided maybe 1 could restrain myself that long, stalked out. Carla Lindo Ramada told me, \u201cDean is a sweet man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Sometimes we have trouble keeping the bees off him. We use him to bait our flytraps. And he\u2019s a sucker for a girl in trouble.\u201d But not me. Oh, no, not Garrett. Garrett is hard as nails, \u201cHow come you were hiding out there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I arrived in TunFaire, I stayed with people the Baron knows. On the Hill. I asked everybody I saw who might be able to help me. Everybody recommended you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gahk! I hadn\u2019t thought my name was common coin on the Hill. That could be bad news.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey say you\u2019re honest but you do things your own way and you have a reputation as a chaser.\u201d Her eyes sparkled She definitely wasn\u2019t as naive as she looked.<\/p>\n

\u201cMe? They must\u2019ve been thinking about somebody else. I\u2019m pure of heart and soul. Pure as the driven slush<\/p>\n

\u201cBut maybe a little lax in mind and body?\u201d More eye twinkle. She was coming back from her fright. Fast. I bet she kept that mountain castle simmering.<\/p>\n

She smiled. Her freckles danced And I knew why she stood out from the other redheads. They didn\u2019t have freckles Even Tinnie doesn\u2019t have them Many Where they show.<\/p>\n

We could\u2019ve gone on like that all night, but there was a job to do. And Dean would be back any second, pushing his scowl before him. \u201cGuilty more often than not Let me tell you about the Carla Lindo Ramada who was here before You tell me when her story doesn\u2019t match up with yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

She listened attentively. Her eyes never stopped sparkling and her freckles never stopped dancing, even when Dean brought our tea. He looked at her looking at me and sighed. He never does quite abandon hope that he can stick me with one of his nieces.<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo sipped her tea, seemed startled. Dean had broken out one of his reserve blends. She took another sip, told me, \u201cThat\u2019s exactly the way it happened, Mr. Garrett. I think.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018I wasn\u2019t there. He sent me away so I\u2019d be safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018He did? He wanted you safe from the rowdiness at home, but he packed you off to the wicked city alone?\u201d That didn\u2019t seem consistent.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t want to send me. Probably she got here before I did because he spent so much time making up his mind. But he didn\u2019t have any choice. I was the only one left that he could trust.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018The Serpent tried to enlist everybody else. Some of them had to be with her. The trustworthy ones all got killed trying to get the book. She never tried to get to me because she knew I\u2019d never do anything against him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not? We all can be tempted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he\u2019s my father, Mr. Garrett. My mother was a chambermaid, too, so there was no way he could legitimize me, but their relationship wasn\u2019t any secret. He never denied me, even to his wife. She hates me and my mother. But she hasn\u2019t dared do anything.\u201d She shivered, suddenly frightened. There was a big yet unspoken there. If Dean had been anywhere else, I would\u2019ve bounced over to comfort her.<\/p>\n

This was getting more complicated by the minute, at the far end, where the story started, but I wasn\u2019t a step nearer getting things unraveled here. \u201cWait up. I\u2019m getting confused. We have a wife and a witch and a mistress and a daughter, all for a guy who\u2019s supposed to be two hundred years old, bedridden, and under a curse that won\u2019t let him die?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at me funny. I ran past her what the other<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo had told me. Maybe she hadn\u2019t been listening the first time.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. That\u2019s not quite true. Father is old and bedridden, but he wasn\u2019t always. And he\u2019s not two hundred; she just says that. He\u2019s sixty-eight. She put the curse on him when I was four, when he stopped even pretending about my mother and sent her to live in the other tower.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean got it first. \u201cHis wife would be the Serpent, Mr. Garrett. He exiled her to a separate part of the castle.\u201d So much for my steel-trap mind. Maybe if I was a little less pained and tired<\/p>\n

The girl nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Right. I got it now Should have said so.\u201d I wondered if that changed anything. I wondered why I cared. The carryings-on of the denizens of a faraway castle were no business of mine. Unless those people wouldn\u2019t leave me alone. I thought out loud, \u201cIt seems we know who and why, Dean. You think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat Serpent person. Wanting to keep Miss Carla from reaching you and getting your help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s one. What about Squirrel? Her doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shrugged. \u201cThat blonde woman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. Now we know this, what should we do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo didn\u2019t correct Dean\u2019s lapse. So she was the kind who would let him get away with stuff.<\/p>\n

She interrupted my thoughts. \u201cWill you help me, Mr. Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

I wanted to tell her I wouldn\u2019t let her out of my sight. That that would be too painful, like taking away my vision. My eyes couldn\u2019t stand the darkness when she was gone. But I kept it businesslike. Barely \u201cYes. I think our interests run parallel.\u201d Wouldn\u2019t be the first time I\u2019d turned on a client who turned out to be shady.<\/p>\n

My comments puzzled Carla Lindo. I glanced at Dean. He shrugged. He hadn\u2019t told her about Tinnie or that the imposter Carla Lindo had hired me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Ramada . . . I became involved in this on a personal level yesterday. A. good friend was coming to visit. She\u2019s about your height and has red hair. A man tried to kill her out front. One of the Serpent\u2019s men, evidently. Mistaking her for you, I suspect. So I have a score to settle. I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Dead Man touched me, a summons. He had something he wanted to stick in, in private. \u201cExcuse me. I have to step out for a minute. Finish explaining, Dean.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man nodded. He was looking hurt all over again. Like Tinnie had just gotten hit. He\u2019d probably tell it better than I could. He didn\u2019t pretend to be tough.<\/p>\n

I sure didn\u2019t feel tough and invulnerable.<\/p>\n

18<\/h1>\n

I slid into the Dead Man\u2019s room, starting to feel sorry for myself. I hadn\u2019t had me a good dose of that yet. I suppose it was due. Part of being human.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up? This one a ringer, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

This one is genuine. She is an open book, easily read\u2014 though the truth be told, there is not much written there. Her light does not shine brightly. Be kind to her, Garrett.<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, hell. That ain\u2019t playing fair.\u201d<\/p>\n

He filled my head with a chuckle. There is kindness and kindness, Garrett. I would not ask you to cease being human.<\/p>\n

\u201cBig of you.\u201d Not much, he wouldn\u2019t. \u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d Looking at all of him here and thinking of all of Carla Lindo over there, I was headed into withdrawal.<\/p>\n

One significant factor has escaped you. No. You need not feel slow. Indulgent of him. It escaped me until you told Miss Ramada about Miss Tate\u2019s narrow escape.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the way he is. Nothing straight out. Try to make me figure it out for myself. \u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t play with me long. You related the same account to the pretender earlier. That woman, if she is indeed the Serpent\u2014and I now believe she is\u2014then knows that Miss Ramada had not been harmed and was in fact ignorant of that threat, so was in no danger of being scared away. Presumably she had something to do with your adventure near Dwarf House. So. Assuming the house was not watched while you were away, because you were not expected to return .<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got it. Do you think she figured out that you were here?\u201d<\/p>\n

That is of no consequence. It is no secret that you share the home of a Loghyr. She will know once she starts to ask questions.<\/p>\n

I skipped his invitation to feud over whose house it was. I considered what we knew about the Serpent. Damned little, but if she was heavyweight enough to create the kind of book that was the root of the excitement, she could be heavyweight enough to cause us trouble. The Dead Man can do incredible things, but strength isn\u2019t everything. Sometimes you have to bob and weave and he just isn\u2019t light on his feet. There are disadvantages to being dead that even he can\u2019t get around.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s back off and look at this. Why is she here? To get her book back. That\u2019s the big thing. Keeping me out of her way ought to be secondary. When she was here, she got everything I knew. She gave me stuff back, but only because then she figured me to do her legwork.\u201d But if she wanted me to do legwork, why try to hit me? \u201cMaybe she changed her mind when she got wind I was seeing your pal Sneezy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sneezy?<\/p>\n

\u201cGnorst Gnorst Gnorst, and so forth. Maybe she started feeling the heat, realized how much she\u2019d stirred up. She\u2019s got me and Saucerhead and you and the Tates after her on account of Tinnie, as soon as we figure out she isn\u2019t Carla Lindo. She\u2019s got the kingpin after her because he wants whoever cut Squirrel. I visit the head dwarf, he squawks like a stuck turkey when I mention the Book of Shadows, goes into a panic, says he\u2019s going to put his whole mob on the warpath. They\u2019re after her, too. She\u2019s got to make some moves. Maybe she figures if she gets rid of me, everybody will sit back for a while because I was the common denominator tying her enemies together.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d gone from explaining to thinking out loud. \u201cShe\u2019s going to push hard, going after that book. She might take another whack at me when she finds out I got away from her boys. Now I can raise the heat even more.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan there really be a book where you just read a page and turn into whoever\u2019s written there?\u201d<\/p>\n

She believes it. Gnorst believes it. The girl and those who sent her believe it. The man who stole the book believed it. Miss Tate was wounded because people believe it. What I believe does not matter. This has become a race, Garrett. You have to find that woman before she finds the book.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about I just find the book and wait for her to come to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

An admirable strategy, simple and direct. I should have seen it myself. How do you propose to execute it?<\/p>\n

Sly, sarcastic old devil. Of course it would be easier to find the witch than the book. She was running with a strange pack. Even in TunFaire, it would stand out like pants on a mare.<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn\u2019t be here. I should be at Morley\u2019s, in case Sadler gets an interesting report.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Dotes\u2019s establishment would be convenient. I can get a message to you there. Though perhaps a modicum of rest would better serve you at the moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d He was. \u201cI\u2019m on my way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean looked expectant when I returned to the small front room. \u201cHe wanted to remind me that we told the other woman about Tinnie. Which means she knows Carla Lindo is still kicking.\u201d<\/p>\n

The redhead\u2019s eyes got huge. Damned if that didn\u2019t make me want to charge over there and set her in my lap and tell her everything was going to be all right. Even if I didn\u2019t know everything was going to be all right. Because things would be plenty all right with me as long as she remained perched there.<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cWe figure there\u2019s no reason for you to worry. The cat\u2019s out of the bag. Killing you won\u2019t chase it back in. She\u2019ll concentrate on finding the book.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t let her find it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy. She\u2019ll need some fantastic luck to find it before she gets found herself. In about a minute I\u2019m going to take a walk and tell a man about her, and before you can wink there\u2019ll be about three thousand bad people looking for her.\u201d I had a thought, which sometimes happens. Sometimes even before it\u2019s too late. \u201cWhat\u2019s she look like when she\u2019s not being you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo just looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m trying to think. I don\u2019t know. I don\u2019t think I ever saw her. At least not and know it was her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay what?\u201d The Dead Man had warned me. \u201cYou lived in the same place and you never saw her? She had to see you if she put a page in her book that was you.\u201d Had to see her pretty damned close. About all she\u2019d left out was the freckles.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe stayed locked up in her tower. Nobody went in there but people she wanted in there. All those dwarves and ogres and creepy ratmen. If I ever saw her, I didn\u2019t know it was her. I\u2019m sure I never saw her.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Baron\u2019s castle had to be some weird place. Not one where I\u2019d like to spend a lot of time. Unless Carla Lindo had her four or five sisters. Maybe I ought to find Out if there were any more at home like her.<\/p>\n

I must\u2019ve been showing my thoughts. She gave me a look like she was reading my mind. I stammered some, then managed to say, \u201cYou can\u2019t give me anything to go on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Yes. I never saw it, but they say she wears a ring. Middle finger of her right hand. She never takes it off. It\u2019s a snake that wraps around her finger three times. It has a cobra head. They say there\u2019s venom in the ring that can kill you instantly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s handy to know.\u201d I reflected. \u201cThe woman who was here wasn\u2019t wearing a ring. I don\u2019t think.\u201d That was still foggy. \u201cDid you see one, Dean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Good man. He refrained from mentioning the extra redhead.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen she will take it off in some circumstances. Is there anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo reddened, which was surprisingly fetching considering her coloring. But I couldn\u2019t imagine her doing anything that wasn\u2019t fetching. She only had to breathe.<\/p>\n

She said, \u201cShe has a tattoo. They say. It\u2019s how she got her name. The Serpent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Vagrant memory, of a guy in my company when I was in the Marines. He\u2019d been stuck with the name Donkey Dick till one night he\u2019d gotten all drunked up and had a tattoo artist go to work. After that we called him Snakeman. If he\u2019s still alive, I\u2019ll bet he regrets it. Unless he\u2019s turned it into a carnival act.<\/p>\n

The girl stood up. \u201cThe whole front of her is supposed to be a snake\u2019s face.\u201d She gestured. \u201cHer breasts are supposed to be the snake\u2019s eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Boy. There was a thought. Imagine waking up and looking over at that next to you. That would dampen your ardor. No wonder old Stonecipher took up with a chambermaid. \u201cThat\u2019s a vivid image. Anything else?\u201d I could just see me going around ripping open the blouses of suspects.<\/p>\n

She shook her head. All that copper hair flying around left me with another vivid image. But this one faded to red hair against cobblestones.<\/p>\n

I wondered if Tinnie was going to haunt me. Maybe I\u2019d better go see how she was doing. Tomorrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to go out, Dean. Over to Morley\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face pruned up with concern. \u201cIs that wise?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s necessary. Put Miss Ramada in the front guest room. She\u2019ll be safe enough there.\u201d<\/p>\n

His look said she\u2019d be safe only as long as I was Out of the house. I didn\u2019t argue. I seldom do. There\u2019s no way to change Dean\u2019s mind. Maybe he should\u2019ve gone ahead and become a priest. You sure can\u2019t rattle him with facts.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d make a great little old lady, too.<\/p>\n

Probably comes of having to live with all those nieces. I hate to wish them on anybody, but I do wish they\u2019d find husbands and get Out of his hair.<\/p>\n

Dean nodded. I stepped out of the room, deaf to the girl\u2019s appeals. I went upstairs and rearmed, then came down and stopped by the office to say good-bye to Eleanor. \u201cWish me luck, lady. Wish me better luck.\u201d I hadn\u2019t saved a soul in the case that had involved her. Unless, maybe, in a way, I\u2019d saved me. After the hurting went, I\u2019d found a renewed resolve to do my bit to make the world a better place.<\/p>\n

19<\/h1>\n

You get wary when people have been pounding on you. Even when you\u2019re so tired even snazzy redheads have begun to lose their appeal. Before I\u2019d gone a block I sensed I was being watched. I\u2019m not sure what it was. Certainly nothing I could spot. The watcher was that good. Maybe it\u2019s a sense you develop in order to survive in this business, in this city.<\/p>\n

I decided I\u2019d stay out of places so tight I\u2019d have nowhere to run, which was just common night sense anyway.<\/p>\n

I was halfway to Morley\u2019s place, dodging low-flying morCartha, when suddenly I was no longer alone. \u201cShee-it! You guys got to stop doing that. My heart can\u2019t handle it.\u201d Despite my wariness, Crask and Sadler had surprised me, appearing out of nowhere. An object lesson, most likely. In case I ever became inclined to line up against them. They like to play those games.<\/p>\n

I supposed it was their people who had tracked me from my place and sent them word I was coming.<\/p>\n

Sadler smiled. At least I think that was supposed to be a smile. Hard to tell in the dark. \u201cReally thought you\u2019d appreciate some good news, Garrett. But if you ain\u2019t happy to see us .<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m overjoyed. I\u2019m thrilled right down the quicks of my toenails.\u201d Thrilled like they were double pneumonia with a raging dysentery tossed in. \u201cWhy can\u2019t you guys just walk up to me like normal people? You always got to be jumping out of alleys and stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cI like to see the look on your face.\u201d He wasn\u2019t smiling. He wasn\u2019t kidding.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cMy, my. We\u2019re crabby tonight. Did we have a bad day?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got your kicks. So tell me what\u2019s the good news?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe found your man Blaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cCome on. You ask, we deliver.\u201d<\/p>\n

Deliver, sure, but without any guarantees about condition. It\u2019s hard to read those two, but I did get a feeling all was not well during our stroll to see Blain. So I wasn\u2019t surprised when, after we\u2019d passed a platoon of henchmen and climbed to a third-floor one-roomer, he turned out to be in a poor state of health.<\/p>\n

Some unaccountably thoughtful soul had covered the body with a blanket.<\/p>\n

I glanced around. The room\u2019s door had been busted off its hinges. And I don\u2019t mean just kicked in but torn up like it had gotten in the way of a troll in a hurry who didn\u2019t want to be bothered with latches. The room itself was ripped all to hell, like a squad of werewolves had gone berserk there. But there wasn\u2019t any blood. \u201cYou guys get a little overwrought?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler shook his head. \u201cSomebody else. We come here when he heard about the racket.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head again. \u201cEverybody cleared out before we got here. You know how it goes. See no evil, hear no evil, you don\u2019t got to worry about comebacks. We only caught one old guy who was too slow. He didn\u2019t know nothing but the dead guy\u2019s name. Dipshit was so thick he used his own name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBright.\u201d But what did that mean? None of us knew Holme Blaine. The dead guy could be anybody and we wouldn\u2019t know the difference.<\/p>\n

I glanced around again. Looking more closely, I could see the damage wasn\u2019t just insane destruction after all. \u201cSomebody wanted it to look like crazies did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crask smiled at me like I was a dull pupil who had seen the light at last. \u201cSomebody was looking for something. Maybe some of them looking while some of them were asking. Then we come along unexpected, they do a quick cleanup and fade.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ha! \u201cSo where are they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGone. Saw us coming.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huh. I wondered why anyone would bother hiding the fact that they\u2019d searched Blaine\u2019s place and fixed him so he couldn\u2019t talk about it. Did we have somebody looking for the book who didn\u2019t want somebody else looking for it to know they were looking, too?<\/p>\n

That came to me off the wall but felt so right I went into a trance trying to figure Out why.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cYou want something to exercise your mind, check this out.\u201d He yanked the blanket off Blaine.<\/p>\n

I gaped. I managed a one-syllable expletive after about fifteen seconds, and a quarter of a minute later said, \u201cThat\u2019s impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Prime example of a mass hallucination.\u201d<\/p>\n

Damn. Everybody was getting sarky.<\/p>\n

Blaine was half-man, half-woman. Actually, more woman than man. Running from three inches above the waist on the right diagonally to his left shoulder, he was a he. Down below he was a she. Very much a she. In fact, a familiar one. I\u2019d seen that end before.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think of that?\u201d Crask asked.<\/p>\n

I chewed some air. I made my eyes bug. \u201cLooks like he had trouble making up his mind.\u201d I made funny noises. \u201cBet he had trouble on dates.\u201d They must\u2019ve thought the circus was in town and I was practicing for my audition.<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst time I ever seen him without some wiseass remark,\u201d Crask said. I bet he\u2019d waited a year to pick a time to drop that one.<\/p>\n

Sadler asked, \u201cWhat you know about this, Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it\u2019s weird. I never saw anything like it.\u201d Well, like part of it. That bottom had been in my small front room for a while. \u201cIt\u2019s like something out of a freak show.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot what I meant.\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew that. \u201cZip.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure? You wanted this guy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he was supposed to have the answers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler gave me the fish-eye. \u201cDon\u2019t look like anybody\u2019s going to get to empty him out, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I guess that\u2019s the point.\u201d I leaned against a wall, where nobody could get behind me, and gave the room another took. But there wasn\u2019t anything there to see. Except that body. Whoever did the job, they left nothing of their own. And they didn\u2019t find what they were looking for, else they wouldn\u2019t have been there still when Crask and Sadler showed. \u201cNobody saw nothing, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis\u2019s TunFaire. What do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought they were lucky to have caught the old man they\u2019d caught. I told him so. He grunted.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure you ain\u2019t got nothing to tell us, Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, I do. But let it ride a minute. I want you to understand something. I don\u2019t have a client. There\u2019s no percentage in me holding out.\u201d What\u2019s a little white fib amongst friends?<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cWould you look at this?\u201d He\u2019d gotten distracted in a big way.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Sadler.<\/p>\n

Crask pointed at the body. We looked. I didn\u2019t get it till Sadler said, \u201cIt\u2019s changing.\u201d A little more of it was male than had been before.<\/p>\n

Crask knelt, touched it. \u201cAnd it\u2019s dead enough it\u2019s cooling out. This is weird.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is sorcery,\u201d Sadler said. \u201cI don\u2019t like this. Garrett?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t look at me. I can\u2019t change water into ice.\u201d<\/p>\n

They both scowled, sure I was holding out. Sure. Blame it on Garrett when weird things start to happen.<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cI don\u2019t like it. We ought to get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cThat sounds like a good plan.\u201d I headed for the door. \u201cYou guys rounded up any other news? You get a line on those dwarves yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

They both got a funny look. Sadler said, \u201cNot yet. And that\u2019s weird, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crask said, \u201cYeah. They got to leave a trail. They got to be staying somewhere,\u201d<\/p>\n

True. Curious. It bore some thought. Where could they stay and not catch the eyes of the kinds of people who work for Chodo, or who work for the people who work for Chodo? Couldn\u2019t be many places like that around.<\/p>\n

I paused in the doorway. \u201cSomebody really blew in here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Crask said. \u201cHope I never have to arm-wrestle him.\u201d<\/p>\n

I went over the fragments, looking for maybe a thread from a knit sweater that came only from one small island off the coast of Gretch, or something. You go through the motions even when you think they\u2019re pointless. A matter of discipline. They pay off sometimes, so you do them all the time. When I found a big lot of nothing, I wasn\u2019t disappointed. I\u2019d fulfilled my expectations. If I\u2019d found something, I\u2019d have been overjoyed, having struck it rich beyond my wildest fancy.<\/p>\n

Sadler said, \u201cLet\u2019s not slide out so fast, Garrett. You had something to tell us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d I\u2019d been vacillating. Information given up is advantage surrendered.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFound out about another character who\u2019s got something to do with whatever\u2019s going on. Called the Serpent. She\u2019s the one this guy is supposed to have stolen a book from.\u201d Blaine was changing faster, maybe because he was getting cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadler ought to get together with Puddle for a gabfest. Sparkling. \u201cThe Serpent is a witch. She hangs out with dwarves.\u201d I took it from the top. They had some of it already but I didn\u2019t know how much. I gave them everything I thought they needed to know. I was real ignorant about why the book was a big deal.<\/p>\n

\u201cWitch, eh?\u201d Crask eyed Blaine. That was the salient point for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cTattoo?\u201d Sadler asked. He lifted an eyebrow. \u201cThat would be a sight to see.\u201d<\/p>\n

It would, but I was surprised he thought so. He never showed much interest along those lines. He asked, \u201cYou figure she cut Squirrel?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf she didn\u2019t, she knows who did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll find her. We\u2019ll ask.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe careful\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave me a look. Most\u2019y it wondered about my smarts. He\u2019d be careful. He\u2019d survived his five in the Cantard. He\u2019d survived in his line of work long enough to get to the top. Careful was his middle name, right between bad and deadly.<\/p>\n

I took a final look at Holme Blaine, who hadn\u2019t been careful enough. He still didn\u2019t have anything to tell me. I didn\u2019t have anything to say to him, either.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d done my duty. It was time to get my bones moving toward a bed. If the morCartha took pity maybe I could get some sleep.<\/p>\n

20<\/h1>\n

Morley\u2019s place wasn\u2019t far out of the way. I ignored my weariness and the racket overhead and the doings of a night proceeding in the streets and headed for the Joy House.<\/p>\n

Ratmen were out doing what they do, picking up after everyone if they worked for the city, stealing anything loose if they were self-employed. There were more goblins and kobolds and whatnot out than I was used to seeing. I guess the weather had turned for the night people, too.<\/p>\n

I still had that feeling I was being watched. And I still couldn\u2019t spot a watcher. But I didn1t try hard.<\/p>\n

Morley\u2019s place was a tomb. Nobody there but a couple of the kingpin\u2019s men. Even Puddle was gone, home or wherever. That gave me pause to reflect. I don\u2019t often think of guys like Puddle, or Crask and Sadler, in human terms. Home. Hell. The guy might have a family, kids, who knew what all. I\u2019d never considered it. He\u2019d always been just another bonebreaker.<\/p>\n

Not that I wanted him to ask me over for dinner, to meet the missus and little bonebreakers coming up. I was just in one of those moods where I start wondering about people. Where they came from, what they did when I wasn\u2019t looking, like that. Probably got started when Chodo told me about his girlfriend.<\/p>\n

It isn\u2019t a mood I enjoy. It gets me thinking about myself, my own lack of place and depth in the scheme. No family. Hardly any friends, and them I don\u2019t know that well. What I don\u2019t know about Morley or Saucerhead could fill books, probably. They don\u2019t know me any better, either. Part of being a rough, tough, he-.man type, I suppose. On stage all the time, hiding carefully.<\/p>\n

I have plenty of acquaintances. Hundreds. We\u2019re all tied together in a net of favors done and owed, all of us keeping tabs on the balance, sometimes thinking it friendship when it isn\u2019t anything but a shadow of the obsession that drives Chodo Contague.<\/p>\n

Comes out of the war. There isn\u2019t a human male in this city who didn\u2019t do time in hell. I even have that in common with the nabobs of the Hill. Whatever privileges they claim or steal, exemptions aren\u2019t among them.<\/p>\n

Down in the Cantard witch\u2019s cauldron, you keep track of all the little stuff and strive to keep a balance because you don\u2019t want anybody checking Out owing you. And, even though you share a tent, cooking utensils, campfires, clothes, even girls, you never get too close to anybody because a lot of anybodies are going to die before it\u2019s over. You keep your distance and it don\u2019t hurt so much.<\/p>\n

You dehumanize the enemy entirely and your comrades enough sG\u2014though you\u2019ll charge into hell behind them or storm heaven to rescue them—-you never open your heart and never let them open theirs.<\/p>\n

It makes sense when you\u2019re down there in the shitstorm. And once you\u2019ve survived the storm and they send you home, you\u2019re saddled with that baggage forever. Some come home like Crask and Sadler, purged of everything human.<\/p>\n

That got me wondering what those two had done during their duty. I\u2019d never heard. They\u2019d never said. A lot of guys don\u2019t. They put it all behind them.<\/p>\n

Then I started wondering why, though the night people were busier than usual, it was so quiet out. Night isn\u2019t Just the time of those races who have to shun the sunshine, it\u2019s the time of the bad boys, the time when the predators come out. I wasn\u2019t seeing anybody dangerous or suspicious.<\/p>\n

I guess Chodo had the baddies beholden to him busy, and the free-lancers, not clued in, were lying low so they wouldn\u2019t catch his attention. Or maybe it was just the morCartha being so obnoxious nobody came Out who didn\u2019t have to.<\/p>\n

The morCartha weren\u2019t that much trouble if you hugged the edge of the street and kept an eye out. They seldom risked crashing into a building just to swoop down and steal a hat.<\/p>\n

Speaking of whom.<\/p>\n

The tenor of their aerial pandemonium changed suddenly, radically. A violent outcry spread. It sounded like terror. Hasty wings beat the air frothy. The sky cleared. An almost total silence fell. It was so remarkable I paused to look at the sky.<\/p>\n

A broken fragment of moon lay somewhere low in the east, out of sight, casting barely enough light to limn the peaks and spires of the skyline. But there was light enough to show a shape circling high up.<\/p>\n

Its wings sprawled out a good thirty feet. It wasn\u2019t doing anything but making a wide, gliding turn over the city before heading back north.<\/p>\n

A flying thunder-lizard. I hadn\u2019t known they were night hunters. I\u2019d never seen one before. What I saw of this one made it look a lot like a prototype for all those dragons guys in tin suits are killing in old paintings. I hear they are. The dragons of story are mythical. Which makes them about the only imaginary creatures in this crazy world. Hell, I\u2019ve even run into a god who thought he was real.<\/p>\n

\u201cGarrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned, less surprised than I expected. There must have been subconscious clues. \u201cWinger. Kinda hoped I\u2019d run into you again. Wanted to warn you. You got some bad people looking for you. Not in too good a mood, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

That surprised her. \u201cYou can tell me about it on the way. Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t think to ask where or why because her attitude tapped my anger. \u201cI have a previous engagement. With my bed. You want to talk to me about something, come around in the morning. And try to ask nice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGarrett, you seem like a pretty good guy, considering. So let\u2019s don\u2019t butt heads. Let\u2019s don\u2019t do it the hard way. Just come on.\u201d<\/p>\n

She had a problem. A serious problem. Now I wouldn\u2019t have gone anywhere with her even if I\u2019d planned to before. \u201cWinger, I kind of like you. You got balls and style. But you got an attitude problem that\u2019s going to get you hurt. You want to make it in the big city, you got to learn some street manners. You\u2019re also going to have to know who you\u2019re messing with before you mess. You cut somebody who has friends like Chodo Contague, your chances of staying healthy just aren\u2019t good.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked baffled. \u201cWhat the hell you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat guy you cut in the alley off Pearl Lane. A couple thousand of his friends are looking for you. They don\u2019t plan to slap you on the back and tell you you did a great job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? I never cut nobody.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope not. But he was following you when it happened. Who else could\u2019ve done it?\u201d<\/p>\n

She thought about it for half a minute. Then her frown cleared as she decided not to worry about it. \u201cCome on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot smart, Winger. You\u2019re pressing where you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was one stubborn woman. And just a whole lot too confident. Maybe where she came from men wouldn\u2019t defend themselves against a woman. Maybe she was used to them hesitating.<\/p>\n

Hell, I might have myself. But she\u2019d let me talk and that had given me time to get my mind right.<\/p>\n

She got out a nightstick not unlike my headthumper. So I got out mine, a replacement for the one I\u2019d left down by Dwarf Fort. She came in figuring to feint a few times and tap me up side the head. I didn\u2019t cooperate. My head had taken enough dents already.<\/p>\n

I just slipped her guard, rapped her knuckles, then her elbow when the pain froze her for an instant, then jabbed her in the breadbasket as her stick tumbled toward the street. \u201cThat\u2019s how you use one of these things.\u201d She wasn\u2019t very good. All bull offense.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t seem upset because she\u2019d been disarmed so easily, just surprised. \u201cHow\u2019d you get so damned fast?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s two kinds of Marines, Winger. Fast ones and dead ones. Better get something through your head right now, before you run into somebody who won\u2019t cut you some slack. There isn\u2019t a man in this town, over twenty-three, who wasn\u2019t tough enough and fast enough to survive five years in the Cantard. A lot of them, you make a move on them, they\u2019ll leave you for the ratmen and not look back. Especially the bunch that are looking for you. They like to hurt people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said I didn\u2019t cut nobody. Not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you\u2019d better be able to tell them who did. Fast.\u201d<\/p>\n

She raised both eyebrows. A strange woman. She wasn\u2019t afraid. You have to worry about the sanity of somebody who doesn\u2019t have sense enough to be afraid of Chodo Contague.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou be careful,\u201d I told her. \u201cCome by in the morning if you still want to talk.\u201d I turned to head for home.<\/p>\n

Damned if she didn\u2019t try again. Barehanded.<\/p>\n

The reflexes still worked. I heard her move, pranced aside, stuck out a leg and tripped her, grabbed her by the hair on the fly. \u201cThat\u2019s twice, Winger. Even nice guys run out of patience. So knock it off,\u201d I turned loose, started walking.<\/p>\n

This time she listened to the message.<\/p>\n

21<\/h1>\n

Dean almost got his marching orders when he went to get me up for my morning run. He\u2019s worse than a mom about not buying excuses. \u201cYou started it, you stick with it,\u201d he told me. \u201cYou\u2019re going to run, you\u2019re going to run every day.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grumble grumble grikkle snackfrortz. Go take a flugling fleegle at a frying forsk. I said something like that. I fought the good fight till he went for the ice water. Then my yellow stripe came out. He\u2019d do it, the driggin droogle. I didn\u2019t want to stay in bed that bad.<\/p>\n

Carla Lindo was heating up the kitchen when I stumbled in. I grumbled a greeting.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe always such a ball of sunshine in the morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dean told her, \u201cThis is one of his better mornings.\u201d Thanks, old-timer. He plunked honeyed tea down at my place at the table. He had bacon frying, biscuits baking. The smell of the biscuits was heavenly. I gathered he hadn\u2019t bothered to go home. Not much point. Wouldn\u2019t have been much time to sleep.<\/p>\n

His nieces were used to it. They\u2019d know I was into something. Now, if they\u2019d just forget to use him not coming home as an excuse to come hang around, cooking and baking and batting their eyes and uglying up the place.<\/p>\n

I sipped tea and stared into a fog, nothing much else happening inside my head. Carla Lindo stared at me but didn\u2019t say anything. She wore a teensy frown. Maybe her confidence was rattled.<\/p>\n

You may suspect that morning isn\u2019t my best time. You may be right. I\u2019m waiting for some genius to figure out a way to do without it. The sad truth is, too often it sets the tone for the rest of the day.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you feel this morning?\u201d Carla Lindo finally asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cBlack and blue. My bruises got bruises.\u201d I hadn\u2019t been a lovely sight when I got dressed. I\u2019d seen corpses in better condition.<\/p>\n

Dean took the biscuits out, set the baking sheet directly on a trivet on the table. \u201cYou ought to figure a way to trade with His Nibs. He could get out and run while you loafed all you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

He takes advantage of me mornings. Snipes away, knowing my brain isn\u2019t working. The best I can do is threaten to send him Job hunting. A hollow threat if ever there was one. Crafty old dink don\u2019t play fair. He made himself indispensable.<\/p>\n

He asked, \u201cDid you learn anything last night?\u201d as he brought the bacon.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. That Winger character\u2019s only got one oar in the water.\u201d I told him about it.<\/p>\n

He grinned. \u201cI didn\u2019t think she killed that man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWorld\u2019s best judge of character,\u201d I told Carla Lindo. \u201cSomebody sent Squirrel to the promised land, Dean. That character Blaine, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

That got Carla Lindo. \u201cWhat?\u201d She looked stricken.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomebody did him. Busted his door down, tore his place up, left him dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe book!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it! Now she has it again.\u201d She jumped up, started pacing. I wasn\u2019t so far gone in the morning blahs that I wasn\u2019t distracted. \u201cWhat will I do? Father was counting on me.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy, love.\u201d My, wasn\u2019t she a sight when she was excited, bouncing and jiggling and . . . \u201cWhoever did it didn\u2019t find the book. If that was what they were after. They were still trying when they were interrupted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t there to be found. Carla Lindo, my sweet, sit down. You\u2019re doing things to my concentration. That\u2019s better. You sure there isn\u2019t something you haven\u2019t told me? You been holding back something that would make sense of what\u2019s been happening?\u201d<\/p>\n

Big-eyed, looking shocked and hurt, she shook her head. I doubted she was telling the truth. Well, maybe, by her own lights, she was telling her own version. But it sure felt like there ought to be something more.<\/p>\n

Breakfast usually brightens my outlook. I had been known, recently, to go into my morning runs with a smile on my puss. This morning was going to be an exception. This morning my mood just got blacker. I didn\u2019t finish eating.<\/p>\n

I pushed back from the table. Carla Lindo was still shoveling it in. Where do those little ones put it? \u201cI\u2019m going to see Himself.\u201d I walked out. Dean looked hurt, like I\u2019d made some nasty remark about his cooking.<\/p>\n

I was no bundle of sunshine falling on the Dead Man, either. I stepped into his room, grumped, \u201cYou awake?\u201d<\/p>\n

I am now, O Shield Against Darkness.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

An attempt, however futile, to cajole you away from your gloom. I abandon it forthwith. There is no hope. Review events of last night.<\/p>\n

I reviewed events of last night. I spared no detail. I finished, said, \u201cI\u2019m open to suggestions.\u201d My own best notion was to lock the front door and not answer it till the world straightened itself out.<\/p>\n

Hardly practical, Garrett. Blaine\u2019s death is a setback, yes. But, I agree, it seems unlikely his murderers obtained the Book of Dreams. Unless Mr. Crask and Mr. Sadler were no telling the whole truth.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d I was ready to get in there and mix it up with Puddle.<\/p>\n

I suspect that Chodo Contague would be very interested in the Book of Dreams if he became cognizant of its capacity and function. Very interested, indeed, considering his personal circumstances.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Again. I was on a roll.<\/p>\n

Think! A flash of impatience. We have discussed thLs already!<\/p>\n

Yell, hell. Yeah. Shoot, fire. If Chodo knew what the Book of Shadows could do, he\u2019d be after it like an addict ratman after weed. I\u2019d bet tbere wasn\u2019t a page in the whole one hundred that was a crippled old dink in a wheelchair. He could be young again. He could dance at weddings and funerals. Mainly funerals. He could chase girls and be able to do something when he caught them. Not to mention all the wonderful ways he could use it in his business.<\/p>\n

Yeah, Chodo and the book were not meant for each other. \u201cI got it, Smiley. I\u2019m slow but I get there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Excellent. So. What you really came for was to get me to tell you what to do. To avoid the unwonted labor of deciding for yourself Very well. First, avoid contact with Mr. Chodo\u2019s people as much as possible. Try to create the appearance of disinterest in pursuing the matter further. By way of establishing a foundation for that pretense, I suggest you visit Miss Tate. Assuming, as is probable, you find her mending quickly, you have your basis for proclaiming no further interest. See to that immediately after your morning run.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat morning run?\u2019 I had me a bad feeling here.<\/p>\n

Off we went into a grand fuss about me maintaining my training regimen. He got in the last word. He usually does. He\u2019s more stubborn, but that\u2019s only because he has more time. He can argue for the rest of my life if he wants.<\/p>\n

You must also reconnect with the woman Winger. An encounter with her principal could be most instructive.<\/p>\n

\u201cFatal, too, maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

We have no idea who he is or where he fits. His very existence lends credence to your ill-formed suspicion that there are more than two parties to the search for the Book of Dreams.<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t keep anything from him. Not in the long run. Hell. I\u2019d thought I was covering that idea pretty cleverly.<\/p>\n

I felt his gloating as he continued, There are two additional areas deserving pursuit. As time permits. The movements and contacts of the Blaine person before his encounter with misfortune. And the whereabouts of our friend Mr. Dotes.<\/p>\n

I sensed a touch of concern for Morley. I was a touch concerned myself. Nobody had seen him for a while. He wouldn\u2019t disappear. . . . Unless he\u2019d gone under to do a job or was sincerely concerned about his health. If his health wasn\u2019t gone already.<\/p>\n

Seemed a little premature to start worrying, though. He hadn\u2019t been gone that long. \u201cHe probably isn\u2019t anywhere. He just hasn\u2019t been at his place when I have. No law says be\u2019s got to hang around waiting for me to drop in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Perhaps. Even so.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll check him out.\u201d It looked like another full day. I looked forward to it with the same enthusiasm I look forward to arthritis.<\/p>\n

Go. Do your running. Visit Miss Tate. Visit Mr. Dotes\u2019s establishment. Be back in time for lunch. I will interview Miss Ramada in the interim and prepare additional suggestions.<\/p>\n

He would, too. Probably suggestions involving trotting down to the Cantard and back.<\/p>\n

Ah. Indeed. Thank you for reminding me. Do keep an ear open for news of Glory Mooncalled. I anticipate word of major events soon.<\/p>\n

What? Had he figured some angle nobody else saw? Maybe. He\u2019d anticipated Mooncalled\u2019s mutiny, more or less.<\/p>\n

Him and his damned hobby. Why couldn\u2019t he collect coins or used nails or something?<\/p>\n

Hell, I\u2019d have to do the legwork there, too.<\/p>\n

I went back to the kitchen for another cup of tea. Breakfast had started working inside me. I could appreciate Carla Lindo a little more. I indulged myself till Dean started grumbling about me being in the way. Never said a word about Carla Lindo, did he? Even though he hates having anybody help him because it disturbs his rhythm and routine.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m off on my campaign of self-torture.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nobody seemed very excited.<\/p>\n

22<\/h1>\n

Once on the stoop, I paused to suck in a couple of lungfuls of TunFaire\u2019s chunk-style air. Because of the warm spell, it was thinner than usual, what with nobody needing to heat their homes, Didn\u2019t have much spice at all, actually. I didn\u2019t miss it. I looked around.<\/p>\n

Dang me. The sun wasn\u2019t even up yet, hardly, and already I knew this wasn\u2019t going to be one of my better days.<\/p>\n

Winger was hanging out down the way, not hiding at all, just about ten yards beyond the Dead Man\u2019s usual effective range. She must\u2019ve gotten around to doing some homework.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t bother me nearly as much as did several other studious types hanging out trying to be invisible. There wasn\u2019t a dwarf among them. They were all human, by courtesy. Not the type you want your daughter to bring home. Bent-nose boys, collective intelligence level about that of a slow possum. There were four of them. With Winger? I couldn\u2019t tell. She didn\u2019t seem to notice them. Nor they her. Chodo\u2019s boys? They didn\u2019t have that feel. Took me a moment to figure why.<\/p>\n

They weren\u2019t neat. In fact, they were pretty scraggly. Chodo\u2019s troops have to meet a certain minimal level of personal hygiene, dress, and grooming. These guys never heard of those words. Anyway, Chodo has more respect for me. He\u2019d send Crask and Sadler.<\/p>\n

Who, then? The Serpent? But she seemed to prefer dwarves and ogres and whatnot.<\/p>\n

All that passed through my head in a couple seconds. I considered going inside and locking up and saying the hell with it all. Then I got mad.<\/p>\n

All this time I was stretching and yawning and carrying on like I didn\u2019t see a thing. I skipped down the steps and turned right, away from Winger, skipped around a little warming up, then took off running.<\/p>\n

Fast. It caught them off balance. The two in the direction I was headed pushed off walls, then exchanged \u201cwhat now?\u201d looks. I was past the first before anybody made a decision.<\/p>\n

Then I started flying.<\/p>\n

Somebody else got into the game.<\/p>\n

Three quarrels zipped past me, plunging bolts loosed from a rooftop across the street. I don\u2019t know why they waited till I was moving to start sniping\u2014though I wasn\u2019t all that long getting started and maybe they had to wake up first. The best-sped quarrel passed a few inches ahead, high. I tossed a glance back, saw a little ball of hair duck out of sight atop the only flat roof on that side of the street.<\/p>\n

I sailed past the second thug, heeling and toeing and whooping for all I was worth. People scattered like startled chickens. I bounded over piles of horse apples deposited since the ratmen passed through. The last watcher came pounding after me but it was obvious he lived a dissolute life. He couldn\u2019t keep up for a block.<\/p>\n

I zigged into a breezeway, zagged through an alley, leaped and dodged assorted snoring drunks and weed-puffing ratmen, scavenging dogs and hunting cats and even one crippled morCartha, zoomed into always busy Wodapt Street, and faded into the crowd.<\/p>\n

Easy as that. No problem now till I decided to go home.<\/p>\n

Well, it did take a minute or two to really blend in. For a while I was whoofing and puffing so bad everybody backed away.<\/p>\n

I got mad all over again. What was this crap, dwarves trying to snuff me all the time? What did I ever do to them? I don\u2019t have to put up with that. And Winger.<\/p>\n

I had a mind to turn her over my knee. Only she was as big as me and that might take more turning than I could manage. But I\u2019d had about enough. I was ready to start pushing back.<\/p>\n

I ambled up to the Tate compound and spent an hour at Tinnie\u2019s bedside. She was mending fine. Full of fire and vinegar. We had us a good little spat, and because she wasn\u2019t in any shape for making up, I went away grouchier than ever.<\/p>\n

Barely past breakfast time and already it was a memorably lousy day.<\/p>\n

One of the innumerable nephews caught me before I made good my escape. \u2018Uncle Willard wants to see you, Mr. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d Just what I needed. A fuss with the head Tate. No matter how rotten I felt, I couldn\u2019t get my heart into an argument with him. He\u2019d suffered so much sorrow in the time I\u2019d known him, unearned, that it just didn\u2019t seem right to give him any grief.<\/p>\n

I went peaceably, ready to absorb whatever aggravation he wanted to give me.<\/p>\n

He was at his workbench. Where else? He\u2019d told me once that the family had a touch of elvish blood. I wondered if he hadn\u2019t fudged a little and it was really dwarfish. He was addicted to work.<\/p>\n

He gave me the fish-eye, face unreadable. \u201cSit if you like, Mr. Garrett.\u201d Maybe I wasn\u2019t high up his list after all.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething on your mind?\u201d I sat.<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand you\u2019re looking for the people responsible for what happened to Tinnie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSort of.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that mean? Sort of.\u201d<\/p>\n

I explained. I wondered how many times I would have to tell the story, in how many versions, before the dust settled.<\/p>\n

Tate listened closely. I know he picked out those points where I slipped past something I wanted to keep to myself. He said, \u201cI see.\u201d He reflected for half a minute. \u201cI\u2019d like to meet the person who sent that man to kill Tinnie, Mr. Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was mistaken identity. Had to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI realize that, Mr. Garrett. Even so, Tinnie was hurt. Badly. She would have been killed had not you and your friend been nearby. Had you not intervened. I\u2019ve given this considerable thought. I want to meet the person responsible. I\u2019ll pay well for the opportunity.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d have to get in line, but why not? \u201cI\u2019ll find her. Or him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHim? I was under the impression you believed this witch . .<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Serpent? Seems likely. But, like I said, as time goes by I become more convinced there\u2019s another party involved. Somebody working against the Serpent. And anybody else who gets in the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe blonde woman.\u201d He nodded. \u201cYou might question her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Like she was going to let me. \u201cSpeaking of her, she says her principal\u2019s name in Lubbock. Mean anything? Ever heard the name?\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t hesitate. \u201cLubbock Crister, tanner. Lubbock Tool, drayage. Frith Lubbock. Wholesale greengrocer. Yon Lubbock Damascen, shipping agent. All men I\u2019ve done business with, one time or another. Surely there are others. Historically, you have Marshall Lubbock, the imperial general. You have Lubbock Candide, the sorcerer, and his daughter Arachne, who were so blackhearted and vicious mothers still use their names to frighten children.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right. All right.\u201d I\u2019d never heard of any of them but the last two, but he had a point. \u201cThere\u2019re plenty of Lubbocks out there. And this Lubbock probably isn\u2019t named Lubbock at all. Could even be the Serpent under an assumed name.\u201d<\/p>\n

The little old guy nodded again, his hair floating around his head. He picked up his TenHagens, perched them on his nose. The interview was over. He was going back to work. \u201cThank you, Mr. Garrett. Please do keep me posted, when you have the odd moment. And do make time to visit Tinnie. She hasn\u2019t many friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeo!\u201d He called for one of the nephew horde. \u201cSee Mr. Garrett to the gate.\u201d Just to make sure I didn\u2019t get lost somewhere along the way.<\/p>\n

I hit the street feeling oddly relieved, like I\u2019d taken care of an unhappy duty, comparable to a visit to an unpleasant maiden aunt, and now I could get on with work that mattered. I didn\u2019t much like me when I recognized the feeling. Tinnie was no old lady turned to vine~ gar in her solitude. I would have to examine my feelings toward her more closely.<\/p>\n

I stopped walking, leaned against a wall, started the process of self-examination while considering my next move.<\/p>\n

23<\/h1>\n

I don\u2019t figure I set a record for the standing high jump but I did go up like I had wings.<\/p>\n

\u201cGarrett!\u201d<\/p>\n

I came down facing Winger, knowing I\u2019d have been dead if she\u2019d wanted me that way.<\/p>\n

This was a free one. The gods wouldn\u2019t hand me another chance to get away with napping on the street. \u201cHey, Winger.\u201d I hoped my voice didn\u2019t quaver too bad.<\/p>\n

How had she found me so fast?<\/p>\n

Homework. I\u2019ll bet she took my advice and did her homework. There was hope for her.<\/p>\n

I looked around. I didn\u2019t see the guys who\u2019d chased me. \u201cWhere are your brunos?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d forgotten she was from out of town. She wouldn\u2019t know the argot. Brunos are low-grade hired thugs. \u201cThe hard boys who were with you outside my place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey weren\u2019t with me. I didn\u2019t know they were there till you took off and they went after you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d The gods shield fools, all right. \u201cMaybe you better think about getting into another line of work. You aren\u2019t going to stay alive long in this one.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shrugged. \u201cMaybe not. But if I go, I\u2019ll check out doing what I want to do, not worn out from pulling a plow and making babies.\u201d<\/p>\n

She had a point. One of the reasons I do what I do is because I get to be my own boss, not a creature caught up in a web of commitments and responsibilities. \u201cI got you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s tomorrow, Garrett. And Lubbock is getting impatient.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tough, I thought. I said, \u201cAll right. Lead on.\u201d<\/p>\n

She headed toward the Hill. I let her lead and set the pace, kept my mouth shut. She walked like she was still behind a plow. Kind of a waste. If you took time to look her over, you saw she wasn\u2019t a bad-looking woman at all, just put together on a large scale. Way too big for my taste. I figured she would clean up pretty nice. If she wanted.<\/p>\n

I asked, \u201cYou happen to get a look at those clowns who were sniping at me off that roof?\u201d<\/p>\n

She grinned. \u201cI did better than that, Garrett. I ambushed them when they came down. Kicked their butts and broke their toys.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll of them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was only four of them. Little hairy fellas. Stubborn. Trick with them is, stay in too close for them to use them crossbows but don\u2019t get so close they can reach you. Work on them with your feet.\u201d She skipped, kicked a foot high. I hadn\u2019t seen boots like those since I got out of the Marines. Those would do a job on somebody. If you had the strength to lift them.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow come you did that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey was horning in on my game. You ain\u2019t no good to me full of them little arrows.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be much good to me, either. Wish I knew where they came from.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThem fuzzballs?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe very ones, Winger. That makes three times they\u2019ve come after me.\u201d Recalling that I started watching my surroundings with more enthusiasm.<\/p>\n

We were headed toward the Hill. Her principal had to be a stormwarden or firelord or . . . I tried to recall which of our sorcerer elite might be in town. I couldn\u2019t think of a one. Everybody who was anybody and old enough was down in the Cantard helping hunt Glory Mooncalled.<\/p>\n

If I was the political type, I\u2019d figure this was a great time for an uprising. Our masters hadn\u2019t left anyone to keep us in line. But I\u2019m not a political type. And neither is anyone else. So we\u2019ll just keep going on going on the way we\u2019ve always gone on\u2014unless Mooncalled pulls off his greatest coup yet and arranges it so none of -them come home.<\/p>\n

After deliberating, Winger told me, \u201cI don\u2019t know where they come from, Garrett. But I got a good idea where they went.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh?\u201d Turn up the charm and cunning, Garrett. Shuck and jive this rube right out of her socks.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty marks. Silver. After you see Lubbock.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m nothing if not adaptable. \u201cI\u2019ll give you three.\u201d I wasn\u2019t carrying much more than that.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s your ass. You don\u2019t figure it\u2019s worth twenty marks, I\u2019m not going to argue with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Some of these rubes have a certain low cunning and a nose for sniffing profit out of disaster. \u201cMake it five, then.\u201d<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t say anything, just led me on toward the Hill. All right. She\u2019d come around. Five marks was a lot of money to a country girl.<\/p>\n

A couple of dwarves ambled across an intersection ahead. I blurted, \u201cTen.\u201d And they hadn\u2019t even looked our way. Hell, they never did. They were just a couple of short businessmen.<\/p>\n

Winger ignored me.<\/p>\n

All right. I know. I gave myself away there. But I was nervous. You\u2019d be nervous if you had dwarves trying to poop you every time you stuck your head out of the house.<\/p>\n

Dean doesn\u2019t let me do the marketing, either.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t let up on keeping a lookout. Not for a second. I didn\u2019t see anything disturbing, either, except once I caught a glimpse of a guy who could have been Crask, but he was a block away and I couldn\u2019t be sure. I did grin, though. That might be something to bargain with.<\/p>\n

24<\/h1>\n

I stopped, studied our destination.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Garrett. Quit farting around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to look it over first.\u201d The place looked like some nut\u2019s idea of a haunted castle, in miniature, a hangout for runt werewolves and vampires too limp of wrist to fly. It was a castle, all right, but no bigger than the surrounding mansions. About quarter scale. All black stone and dirty. \u201cCheerful little bungalow. This where Lubbock lives?\u201d I\u2019d seen the place before but hadn\u2019t paid attention. Just another hangout for some nut on the Hill. I knew nothing about it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. He owns it. Only, tell you the truth, I don\u2019t think his name is really Lubbock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Really?\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave me a double dirty look.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you know about him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s in metals smelting. That\u2019s his business, I mean. Royal contracts. Very rich. I picked that up keeping my ears open. He\u2019s a little peculiar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTry to keep a straight face.\u201d<\/p>\n

I started moving again. Slowly.<\/p>\n

I expected zombie guards at the gate. Maybe gnome zombies, since the place was so shrunk down.<\/p>\n

Black steel bars covered its few windows. A toy drawbridge spanned a toy moat five feet wide. Nonhuman, fangy skulls hung over the gate. Smoke dribbled out of their nose holes. Oily torches burned in broad daylight. Somewhere a group of musicians played spooky music. A dozen morCartha perched on the battlements, living gargoyles. I\u2019ll say somebody was peculiar.<\/p>\n

A guy who goes to live on the Hill usually buys or builds his dream house there<\/p>\n

I stopped, considered the morCartha. They seemed lethargic beyond what was to be explained by the fact that it was daytime. Winger said, \u201cLet\u2019s don\u2019t stand around in the street.\u201d She crossed the drawbridge without a qualm. \u201cYou coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. But I\u2019m beginning to wonder if this is such a bright idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed. \u201cStop worrying. It\u2019s all for show. 1-fe\u2019s a crackpot. He likes to dress up and play sorcerer but the only magic he can do is make food disappear.\u201d<\/p>\n

Probably so. If he had any real talent, he\u2019d be in the Cantard trying to outwaltz Glory Mooncalled.<\/p>\n

A cadaverous old guy met us. Without a word he led us to a small, spooky receiving room. The walls were decorated with whips and chains and antique instruments whose function I didn\u2019t even want to guess. By way of art there was a rogue\u2019s gallery of demonic portraiture. Also a couple of real people I probably should have known, did I pay much attention to history. They looked like they\u2019d shaped our past.<\/p>\n

Lubbock joined us.<\/p>\n

He made the Dead Man look slim and trim. He had to go six hundred pounds if he went a stone. He wore a silly black wizard\u2019s outfit that looked like he\u2019d made it himself. It had enough material in it to provide tents for a battalion. The powers that be got wind of it, they\u2019d have him up on charges of hording.<\/p>\n

Lubbock smiled a smile that got lost in the ruddy landscape of his face. It made me think of the wax dripping down around the top of a candle. \u201cAh, Winger. You\u2019ve managed to get the man here at last. Pay her, Pestilence.\u201d A woman who looked like she might be the old guide\u2019s grandmother brought Winger a small leather bag. Winger made it disappear fast.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Garrett.\u201d Lubbock tried to bow. I tried to keep a straight face. Neither of us was completely successful, though I managed well enough.<\/p>\n

That old boy had one spooky voice. It sent chills scampering around my back. I bet he spent hours practicing to get that effect. \u201cI had begun to wonder if I hadn\u2019t made a mistake employing you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought she\u2019d made the mistake, taking him on as an employer. But sometimes you have to do what you have to do to keep body and soul together. I asked, \u201cHow you doing, Lubbock?\u201d<\/p>\n

He threw up his hands and crossed his wrists in front of his heart, palms toward me. He made fists but left his little fingers standing. He waggled his pinkies furiously. He had nails almost two inches long. I guessed that was some kind of sorcerer\u2019s move. I think I was supposed to be impressed.<\/p>\n

And some people I know say I belong in the Bledsoe cackle factory because I don\u2019t have a firm grasp on reality.<\/p>\n

Winger whispered, \u201cAt least pretend to be courteous, Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI asked him how he was when I don\u2019t care, didn\u2019t I? What more do you want?\u201d Blame it on nerves. When people give me the creeps, I get flip. \u201cGet him talking.\u201d I wanted answers from Lubbock but had the heebiejeebies bad enough to think of walking.<\/p>\n

He got himself started. \u201cMr. Garrett,\u201d again. \u201cGood day. I have awaited our meeting anxiously.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPleased to meet you. Whoever you are.\u201d See? Courteous. I could have said whatever you are.<\/p>\n

Another smile tried to break through and died young, smothered by fat. \u201cYes. As you surmise, my name is not Lubbock. No sir. That is merely wishful thinking, the heartfelt desire to walk the same path as the great Lubbocks of centuries past.\u201d<\/p>\n

He rolled his fists over heel to heel with their backs toward me, looked at me between raised forefingers that, more or less, made the ancient sign against the evil eye. \u201cUnfortunately, my dream is denied me by harsh reality.\u201d<\/p>\n

I recalled Willard Tate mentioning a couple of dead double nasties named Lubbock. Sorcerer types. This guy obviously had less talent than I do. His harsh reality. So he was playing some whacky game.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re rich enough, you\u2019re allowed<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you surmise, sir,\u201d he repeated, \u201cmy name is not Lubbock. Hiding the truth from a man of your profession would be foo(ish. You need but poll the neighbors to learn that madman Fido Easterman lives here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFido?\u201d People don\u2019t even name their dogs Fido anymore.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means Faithful, Mr. Garrett Yes sir. Faithful My father, rest his soul, was an aficionado of imperial history. Fido was an imperial honorarium. Rather like a knighthood today. Though it could be bestowed upon anyone, not just those nobly born. Yes sir. The man whose name I took in vein, like a momentary domino, my kinsman Lubbock Candide, attained that very distinction. He was an ancestor of mine, you know. The glittering star atop my family tree. Yes sir. But the power in the blood failed after his daughter, Arachne. I know I abuse the gods for that jest.\u201d<\/p>\n

Man. This clown was a one-man gale. \u201cWhat\u2019s that got to do with me?\u201d Trying to get to the point. \u201cWhy am I here?\u201d I tried to figure the color of his eyes. I couldn\u2019t make them out behind all that fat<\/p>\n

\u201cPatience, my boy. Patience. One never hurries the headsman.\u201d He chuckled wickedly. \u201cJust my little joke, sir. Just my little joke. You are in no danger here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Like hell. Wouldn\u2019t take too much of this to get me foaming at the mouth and talking to little men who weren\u2019t there.<\/p>\n

I kept an eye on the staff. They came and went in the background, eager to see their boss in action. He was a real three-ringer They all wore costumes and spooky makeup. Easterman could afford to pay people to pretend that he was bad.<\/p>\n

Hell, maybe he was. In a more mundane way. Amongst the remote voyeuis I spotted one of the men who had chased me away from my place<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t call him crazy, though. The Eastermans of the world are never crazy. When you have money, you\u2019re eccentric<\/p>\n

\u201cFido Easterman, yes sir \u201c He put all his fingers together and made a spider doing push-ups on a mirror.<\/p>\n

Then he pulled his hands apart slowly, as though he was pulling against tremendous forces. His fingers shook like he was coming down with a disease.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been hearing rumors about a marvelous book, Mr. Garrett. Yes sir, a masterpiece. I wish to obtain that book, sir. I will pay very well indeed to obtain it. Winger has been doing my legwork for me, searching. As you can see, I am not cut out for strenuous effort, however much I might wish it to be otherwise. She has been hunting diligently, of course hoping to separate me from a substantial portion of my wealth. But fortune has not been kind to her. Her only success has been to discover that you may have some knowledge of the book\u2019s whereabouts.\u201d He beamed at me Before I could get a word in, he continued, \u201cWell, then, sir, from what I have learned of your situation, it\u2019s likely you could use a substantial sum. Paid in the metal of your choice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI sure could. I wish I had something to sell. I don\u2019t know where she got the idea I know anything about any book.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, sir. Come. Let us not play games with one another. Let us not bandy words I have said that I will pay well to obtain that book, and I will. My word is good, as any fool can discover by posing a few questions in the ores and metals community. But if you do go asking about me there, you will also discover that I have a reputation for getting what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t doubt it a bit \u201cAll I can tell you about the book is that it exists, maybe, supposedly incomplete. But I don\u2019t have the faintest idea where.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, sir. Surely you don\u2019t expect me to . .<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t expect you to do anything but stay out of my hair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir . .<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you I don\u2019t know where it is. You did some checking on me, eh7 I tefl the truth? The truth is, I was looking for it myself. For a client. I succeeded only in finding the man who stole it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, sir. Now we\u2019re getting somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re getting nowhere The guy was dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled. \u201cUnfortunate. Most unfortunate.\u201d I got the feeling this wasn\u2019t news.<\/p>\n

I spotted another of those guys who had chased me. It finally sank in. Here was my third force. This nut and his brunos. Those guys probably sent Blaine to the promised land. Maybe they\u2019d done the same with Squirrel. I said, \u201cI don\u2019t want anything more to do with this book. It\u2019s gotten a bunch of people killed already. It\u2019s got the Dwarf Fort dwarves on the warpath. It\u2019s got Chodo Contague out for blood because one of his men got cut.\u201d That got a small reaction. \u201cIt\u2019s got a witch called the Serpent and a bunch of renegade dwarves running around the city sniping with crossbows. I don\u2019t need to get in the middle of any of that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Easterman closed his eyes and started talking. Actually, he made some kind of speech, but it wasn\u2019t in Karentine. I\u2019d guess Old Forens, which is still around as a liturgical language amongst some of the more staid of TunFaire\u2019s thousand cults. I don\u2019t know ten words of Old Forens but I\u2019ve heard it used and this had that cadence.<\/p>\n

Good old Fido was a linguist like he was a sorcerer. But what he lacked in talent he made up in enthusiasm. He howled and foamed at the mouth.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d come with Winger hoping to ask some questions. Now I didn\u2019t care. All I wanted was out. Things were sane outside. There were thunder-lizards in the air for the first time since TunFaire\u2019s founding. There were thunder-lizards at the gates. There were centaurs in the streets There were saber-tooth tigers and mammoths and morCartha and gnomes. My friends had disappeared. Crask and Sadler were acting spookier than ever. But it was sane out there. I could survive in that world out there I told Winger, \u201cI\u2019m thinking about becoming a bricklayer Bricklayers don\u2019t have these problems.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shrugged, kept staring at Easterman like he was a genius revealing the secrets of the universe. Maybe she understood him. She was a little bit twitchy herself.<\/p>\n

I gave up and more or less went to sleep on my feet, paying Just enough attention so nobody walked up and bopped me with a battle-ax without me noticing. I stayed only because Winger wasn\u2019t ready to leave. I couldn\u2019t leave her with this spook. He might hold a virgin sacrifice, figuring, hell, she used to be and maybe that was close enough Also, she knew something I wanted to know.<\/p>\n

Easterman finished having his fit. \u201cWell, sir. Well,\u201d he said, not the least embarrassed. \u201cDo we have an understanding, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u2018His people did manage to be embarrassed But they covered it and didn\u2019t walk out. I suppose he paid very well indeed. He\u2019d have to.<\/p>\n

He looked puzzled. As much as he could with all that fat to mask expression \u201cI thought I made myself crystal clear, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you made a lick of sense somewhere, I missed it in the smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGarrett!\u201d Winger cried<\/p>\n

Easterman smiled again. I think that was a smile back in there \u201cVery well, sir. In words even you will understand, then. I want that book. I mean to have that book. I get what I want. Those who help me to obtain it will be well rewarded. Those who attempt to thwart me will not be so fortunate. Is that clear enough?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got it.\u201d I returned his smile. \u201cI\u2019ll pass the word to Chodo Contague and the Serpent if I run into them I\u2019m sure it\u2019ll set them to shaking in their boots so bad they\u2019ll scurry out of the way so you\u2019ll have an open field.\u201d Threat and counter. All very friendly, with knives held behind our backs.<\/p>\n

Winger started apologizing for my barbarism. The more I saw of her, the more I couldn\u2019t figure her out.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo matter, child. No matter. The man has an image to maintain. As we all do, of course. As we all do. Very well, sir. I think our business is quite concluded We understand one another. I was about to dine. Will you join me? I do set a fine table.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pleaded press of business. I didn\u2019t warn to see what kind of table this creep set. Could be hazardous. Wasn\u2019t lunch time, anyway.<\/p>\n

\u201cVery well, sir. As you will. I hope to be seeing you again soon, in circumstances profitable to us all. Plague.\u201d<\/p>\n

He gestured at the cadaverous old man. \u201cEscort our guests, if you will.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man bowed, then led me and Winger to the castle gate. I kept a sharp eye on the old boy. I didn\u2019t need to get pushed through any secret doors. I tried making conversation about his boss. He wasn\u2019t having any. Maybe that wasn\u2019t smart for a guy in his position.<\/p>\n

Winger took up the slack. \u201cI\u2019m disappointed in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m disappointed in me a lot, too. What did I do to break your heart?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat guy is a ripe fruit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA whole orchard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWorked right . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t take the clown. He could probably tell me something I need to know, but\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>d like to hold his toes in a fire for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGarrett!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got yourself tied in with a loony, Winger. He\u2019ll get you killed. I\u2019ll take your word you weren\u2019t working with those guys who chased me a while back. But I noticed some of them were there, hanging around in the background. You better keep your eyes open.\u201d I had a feeling they\u2019d been dogging her since Easterman hired her. A character like him would use a tactic like that.<\/p>\n

I had no sympathy for Fido. I didn\u2019t owe him squat. And now I had an idea who\u2019d done Squirrel. I\u2019d pass it on next time I saw Crask or Sadler.<\/p>\n

We got out of that bughouse. I didn\u2019t look back. \u201cWinger, you know anything about the book?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly that it\u2019s supposed to be about so by so and weigh fifteen to twenty pounds. The pages are brass.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBrass. Brass shadows. It\u2019s what the dwarves call a book of shadows. Each page has a character described on it. Whoever reads the page can become the character written there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay what?\u201d<\/p>\n

We were safely away, without any tail I could spot. I led her to the steps of a public building. They still consider public buildings public here For now. Subjects gather on the steps. Sometimes they live there in good weather We could plant ourselves and talk without getting bashed over the head and told to move along by the hired thugs who police the 1-fill\u2019s streets. \u201cThink about it, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what? 1-low?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay a guy has a dream. No matter how crazy the guy or how insane the dream. Eh? Then all of a sudden he gets a real chance to grab it. Eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou lost me, Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t think she was that slow. I played it out, explained a little more about what the book was supposed to be. \u201cThat creep Fido wants to be a wicked wizard more than anything in the world. But he doesn\u2019t have the talent it takes to trip over his own feet. He\u2019s so bad at what he wants it\u2019s almost easy to feel sorry for him. Almost. But I can\u2019t when it comes to the Book of Shadows. A nut like him gets it . .<\/p>\n

Her eyes widened. \u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Yeah. You got it. But he doesn\u2019t have the book. Yet. We know that for sure because he\u2019s so crazy he\u2019d be taking his wicked-wizard act all over town if he did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me think about this, Garrett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know him better than I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said let me think.\u201d Her face furrowed up exactly the way Saucerheads does when he concentrates. I had a feeling she was like Tharpe in ways other than size. She\u2019d be one of those who think slow but steady, sometimes getting there more surely than those of us who are quicker of wit.<\/p>\n

After a while I said, \u201cHe must have been in touch with Blaine sometime. Else how would he know about the book?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Blaine did offer to sell it to him, I think. But something happened. He backed off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd got killed for his trouble.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy fault, probably I found Blaine for Lubbock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you, I\u2019m a manhunter. He wanted Blaine found, I found Blaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

I glimmed Easterman\u2019s hangout. It wasn\u2019t far away. Not far enough. Somebody was up top trying to lure a flying thunder-lizard down. I guess Fido wanted to catch him his very own dragon.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he didn\u2019t get the book.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess not. I don\u2019t know why. Unless Blaine spotted me and guessed who I was.\u201d<\/p>\n

Curious. Blaine hadn\u2019t had the book when they\u2019d killed him, logically. But he\u2019d had it earlier, and had tried to use it, because he\u2019d been Carla Undo when he\u2019d stumbled into my house. The Serpent couldn\u2019t have it any more than Fido did, else she wouldn\u2019t be trying to kill me. She\u2019d be headed out of town.<\/p>\n

Gnorst? I\u2019d seen no evidence he was even looking. I\u2019d guess he didn\u2019t have it, either.<\/p>\n

So where the hell did it go?<\/p>\n

Why should I care? Tinnie was going to be all right.<\/p>\n

I asked, \u201cYou think anybody ought to have that kind of power?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe, I could handle it. But I don\u2019t know nobody else I\u2019d trust.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I don\u2019t know about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much you pay me not to find it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI come to the city for the money, Garrett. Not to save the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI like a straightforward thinker. I like a girl who has her priorities straight and knows what she wants. I\u2019ll give you a straight answer. Not a copper. You don\u2019t have a glimmer where it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I will I find things real good. Tell you what. When I find it, I\u2019ll give you a chance to outbid Lubbock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the Serpent? You maybe ought to think about that some. While you\u2019re at it, think about what happened to Blaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s no problem.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Winger, it\u2019s stupid not to be scared. There\u2019s some bad people in this town. And you got some of the baddest looking for you. On account of Squirrel. If they catch up with you, you can kiss your tail good-bye.\u201d I mentioned it because once again I\u2019d glimpsed somebody who looked like Crask.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can take care of myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw, when you tried to jump me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it, Garrett, I\u2019m not your responsibility. Back off\u201d<\/p>\n

Something about the way she flared there, and her choice of words, made me wonder if the Winger I was seeing was the real Winger. \u201cAll right. All right. Tell me where those dwarves went.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty marks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMercenary bitch. You\u2019d sell your own mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf the price was right. Two marks. To cover expenses. Won\u2019t do you much good. She\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, she\u2019s still breathing. She\u2019s just been dead from the chin up for the last thirty years. All she knows how to do is whine and bitch and make babies. Sixteen, last time I counted. Probably a couple more by now. Her almost bleeding to death having the fourteenth, then keeping on pumping them out, was what made up my mind I didn\u2019t want to be like her\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty marks.\u201d I didn\u2019t blame her. Peasants live short and ugly lives, uglier for the women. Maybe she didn\u2019t have anything to lose, considering. \u201cBut I don\u2019t have it on me right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll trust you. They say your word is good. Just don\u2019t get yourself croaked before I can collect.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo talk to me. Where are they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou going there right now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. If you tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMind if I just show you? Might find me something interesting, too.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

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Book Preview Glen Cook Dread Brass Shadows From the files of Garrett, P.I. 1 Whew! The things I get me into! We had snow hip deep to a tall mammoth for four weeks, then it turned suddenly hot and the whole mess melted quicker than you could say cabin fever. So I was out running … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3003,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[165],"class_list":["post-3004","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-glen-cook"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3004","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3004"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3004\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3003"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3004"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3004"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3004"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}